


everyone gets hungry (for love)

by Trilies



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Embedded Images, F/M, Food, Gods, Isekai AU, Isekai Harem Trope, KHR Rarepair Week, M/M, Multi, No Beta, Restaurants, Some Humor, no editing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24876202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trilies/pseuds/Trilies
Summary: Chikusa Kakimoto didn't plan for much when he opened his own restaurant, but then a nosy (and gluttonous) god got involved by offering to make his restaurant connected to another world for additional profit.He's already regretting saying "yes".
Relationships: Aria/Kakimoto Chikusa, Gokudera Hayato/Kakimoto Chikusa, Jaeger/Kakimoto Chikusa, Kakimoto Chikusa/Kikyou, Kakimoto Chikusa/Rokudo Mukuro, Luce/Kakimoto Chikusa, Yuni/Kakimoto Chikusa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: KHR Rare Pair Week 2020





	everyone gets hungry (for love)

"Fu fu fu, it's not a bad deal, don't you think? Access to an entirely different plane of existence, all to peddle fine food, and my blessings on top of that. How could one ever refuse?"   
  
"...As far as I can tell, you're not actually giving me a choice..."   
  
Honestly, it had all meant to be something so simple. Chikusa's known from the start that difficulties are simply a basic fact. It's just, until maybe ten minutes ago, he had figured he'd gotten it all figured out. Hell, it _had_ been all figured out. He'd properly saved up what money he could, making sure to balance his finances well and go through all manner of paperwork in order to ensure that he could squeeze out every little bit of value he possibly could, whether through his equipment, his building, and even his very money. It's something he's been saving up to for years now, under the guidance of his father and through his own hard work.   
  
Yet the first day he'd gotten to set foot into his small restaurant, secure in the knowledge that it's now truly become _his_ , some divine pineapple had appeared out of nowhere to boss him around.   
  
Sighing, Chikusa stretches himself out across the table he's taken a seat at, arms nearly able to reach the opposite end of it. This really is the last thing he ever would have wanted to deal with, losing perhaps only to a zombie apocalypse. More than anything, he wants to shut his eyes and go to sleep... Instead, against what feels like his better judgment, he keeps them open and flicks his gaze up to the divine pineapple that is currently floating right in the middle of his dining area.   
  
Well. Perhaps calling the man a "divine pineapple" is a little too much of a simile to be a proper description. It's really only his terrible hairstyle that's reminiscent of a pineapple. If not for that, Chikusa supposes he would be a handsome kind of man, and he doesn't think that because of any particular bias. Rather, it's because he knows what tastes are particularly popular... and, for _whatever_ reason, heterochromia and a smug attitude somehow seem to get fans.   
  
He's not sure where the floating part would fit in, but he guesses that's not necessarily a _negative_ .  
  
While Chikusa debates on if staying awake for all of this is really worth it, the divine pineapple continues to speak with all the unnecessary grandiosity that he's kept up ever since he appeared here. "Isn't it better if it's a choice?" he draws, tilted back as though he's reclining in a chair and not absolutely nothing. It can't possibly be comfortable; Chikusa would know from experience. "Although it seems as though you would be dissatisfied no matter how this were presented to you."  
  
There's a very _purposeful_ pause that's clearly the pineapple waiting for him to speak, and Chikusa once again considers sleep instead of conversation. Yet that wouldn't do anything and, besides, this guy seems like the type who would badger him into waking up again if he tried. So he rouses some energy into himself, propping his elbows against the table while one hand cradles his cheek. "I mean... I knew from the very beginning that this sort of thing was going to be a lot of work," he says. "So that's what I prepared myself for. Getting a decent property for my business... finding the proper supplies... coming up with the menu... But I wasn't really preparing myself... for something as troublesome as this." A sigh heaves out of him. "Isn't that far too much..."   
  
Despite the format, he doesn't really mean it as a question. It _is_ far too much, even for a person with more energy than he has. Of that, Chikusa is fairly certain, being a more down to earth person than anything else. Yet the pineapple certainly takes it as such, letting out a low deep chuckle that taps its way down Chikusa's spine. "Not with the proper assistance," the pineapple says, pushing himself forward until he's floating in front of Chikusa on his stomach now. Languidly, he reaches over to draw a single finger down along Chikusa's jaw. "I never properly introduced myself, did I?"  
  
"No," Chikusa says flatly.   
  
What the pineapple did was somehow magically dim all the lights in the restaurant for a more dramatic atmosphere, appear in a whirlwind of mist and cherry blossom petals, and pronounce himself as Mukuro Rokudo along with how he was going to bestow upon Chikusa the most marvelous gift of being connected to another universe.   
  
....Now that he thinks about it, Chikusa supposes he really should start thinking of him with his proper name attached instead of just "divine pineapple" before he slips up. That would be an even bigger mess that he wants nothing to do with, and he suspects he's already firmly roped into this particular one.   
  
While Chikusa mentally works on that, Mukuro Rokudo draws himself upwards with his fingers placed upon his chest. "Once more, I am Mukuro Rokudo... and I am _God_ of many things." His fingers draw upwards, flicking away some of his hair. "Of truth, and deception, that which is real and that which isn't, of the dead and those who have yet to be..." One eye, the red one, opens up to look over to him slyly. "And thus someone who will _generously_ take care of a great deal of things so that you have no need to worry about _troublesome_ matters." There's a certain amused lilt to that one word, and just that alone is enough to make Chikusa not trust him.   
  
Still, either this is real or he's hallucinating, so there's really no point in holding back. "What do you want in return?" Chikusa asks, upfront as he usually is. The more delicate tip-toe around-the-bush sort of conversation other people have a talent in has never been something he's cared to put effort to learning himself. That's just so much more _work_.   
  
With Mukuro, it seems to be something endearing, as the god chuckles. "Straight to the point... That's something pleasant in its own way. There is no need to worry. There are many other in my world that I have at my disposal if it comes to dangerous missions and the like. Rather, I wish to rely upon your expertise. The very same expertise that has lead to you making a restaurant." He presses a finger to his lips. "Should you accept my offer of connecting your humble business to my world, then I will take you on as one of my followers, and this will be a divine boon. Of course, as someone with the attention of a god, you will be required to pray to me, and give proper offerings..."   
  
Chikusa knows where this is going long before Mukuro Rokudo finishes, and his gaze goes distant. Offerings. Of course. He wants him to _cook_ for him. On the surface, it sounds like a simple enough proposal. However, Chikusa was raised to know the devil is in the details. He's not going to agree to something that sounds so simple without knowing more. "What kind of offerings?"  
  
"Oh, nothing more than a simple meal," Mukuro Rokudo says languidly, as if that explains literally anything.   
  
A meal can be eating shitty cheap processed pasta out of a can at two in the morning. Sometimes it's two courses, a salad and then something a little more meaty. Then there are the courses made for actual _royalty_ , or celebrities, or important government officials, where there are as many courses as there are countries in the world. This is bullshit, and Chikusa isn't going to allow himself to be wrangled into something on account of _technicalities_.   
  
"So any item that's on my menu will suffice," is what he drawls out himself, eyes dull as he watches Mukuro Rokudo freeze in mid place.   
  
For a moment, Mukuro Rokudo eyes him as though he weren't expecting him to consider that. Chikusa is fairly certain that he doesn't _look_ like an idiot, just lazy, and he wonders if this god thinks that everyone is more foolish than him. Then, right there in front of his eyes, Mukuro Rokudo jerks a finger to tug one of the plastic menus over to himself and curls up to start flipping through it impatiently. It's almost like watching a child, somehow.   
  
Eventually, those mismatched eyes peer at him over the top of the menu. "...This is quite a limited selection."   
  
"Eeh... There's room enough for every meal of the day... plus dessert. Most restaurants are fine with just that... and they're even bigger than mine plans to be...."   
  
"But there's only Japanese food here!" Mukuro protests, suddenly in front of his face in the blink of an eye while he points accusingly at the menu. "I know that this land is called 'Japan', but you know the types of food from other lands, don't you?"   
  
There's a question on how exactly Mukuro Rokudo knows that... but Chikusa supposes that, even if he apparently doesn't know the fine details or every little thing about this world, this person in front of him _is_ still a god. Pulling away so that he can get some space for himself, Chikusa sighs again. "Italian and Chinese, yeah... but it's going to be so much work to come up with an even bigger menu... And then get all of them printed once again..."   
  
Reaching over with a clear patronizing air, Mukuro Rokudo taps his nose and winks smugly. "With the money that you will make from those who come to visit this world beyond just myself, you will have no need to fear of losing money, my good Chikusa Kakimoto."   
  
"How exactly is that money going to translate into yen, Rokudo Mukuro-sama?"   
  
"Er-"   
  
It takes a _long_ time for Chikusa to get all the fine details worked out with Mukuro Rokudo, from the exchange of money to how exactly he's going to change his menu to even rearranging his back dining area with new arrivals kept in mind. But, eventually, after sating the god with a sweetly made chocolate parfait, they both come to an agreement:   
  
Chikusa becomes the proprietor of a restaurant connected to another world.

* * *

Chikusa's very first customer from that realm stumbles in on the day he's wearing a dull gray beanie with a hefty amount of wrinkles forming around his head and he can, fortunately, say that he's expecting it.   
  
They've agreed to a schedule, he and Mukuro, because Chikusa demands days of rest even if the rest of the days are full of overtime. So it's when he's shut his front door for the day and come to rest in the back that he's not surprised that the door waiting there, normally meant to lead to a simple storage area, suddenly... _shifts_. It's an action that doesn't seem as though it should be real, a mere mistake from the corner of one's eye, but Chikusa understands it well enough. So he's utterly prepared for when it slams open, and a man around his age barrels through.   
  
Chikusa makes it a point not to trust people he doesn't know, and even a fair bit of people who he _does_ , just because he doesn't know them well _enough_. So when Mukuro Rokudo had said that everything would be fine, well, _obviously_ Chikusa had figured he would be lying. So, while he doesn't understand what it means when the other man whirls around at him with three thin vials filled with red liquid inside of them, he can see the _intent_ more than clearly enough. They're held like they're dangerous, like they're weapons.   
  
His first words almost immediately cement that. "Put your hands where I can see them!" Brilliant green eyes are narrowed into a glare at him over bared teeth. "Who else is in the building!?"  
  
"You and me, as far as I know..." It's a dull mutter, and Chikusa doesn't bother to move at all. He's been waiting this entire time, ever since he sent his part time employees home and locked the front door. He has absolutely no plans to move from where he is, leaning against a wall with a menu in his hands. "Are you going to order anything, or not?"  
  
The ruffian blinks at him a couple of times, not seeming to know what to be surprised about first: the fact that he's in a restaurant or that the only other person in the building is thoroughly unimpressed to the point of immobility with his display. Yet he sure recovers quickly enough... if the way he bristles and glares even more is any indication. "Where is this?"   
  
"It's not like I know either..." Chikusa sighs, finally putting the menu down on the small counterspace he has for various condiments and spare silverware. "Where was the door...?"  
  
Ruffian stares at him like Chikusa has started speaking in tongues. Well, as much as he would like to, Chikusa can't exactly blame him for such a reaction. Out of the context Chikusa and some divine pineapple have alone, his words sound absolutely nonsensical. "Are you drugged?" Ruffian asks, inching further into the restaurant. That the door closed on its own behind him is something he doesn't seem to have really taken it just yet. He'd probably be surprised to find it locked if he'd investigated. But he only has eyes for Chikusa. "It was in the black market alley."   
  
That would _definitely_ explain more about the idea that he's drugged, more than just wry sarcasm. Chikusa pushes himself off of the wall, ignoring how Ruffian jerks his hand in warning. All Chikusa plans to do is fold his arm across his stomach, giving a slight bow. "Well, wherever that door was connected... This is the restaurant Platypus Place. Take a seat, and you will be a treasured customer." Well, it's more like his wallet that will be treasured... but whatever. Those are some semantics that are frankly unnecessary.   
  
Ruffian _really_ doesn't seem to understand how to handle this, still staring at Chikusa for a minute before he seems to gain some sort of nerve. Still holding out the strange vials, he straightens out his back and strides further in until he can find a table that's as far from the connecting door as possible. "A restaurant in the black market alleys?" he scoffs, eyes narrowed.   
  
"Bring that up with the person who created it..." It's not his fault, after all, that Mukuro Rokudo decided the best way to get business was to put a connection to his restaurant across the entirety of his world. Apparently some of the locations are even places that a door shouldn't even exist in. How troublesome. But that's a problem for the future.   
  
His problem in the present is tending to his first ever customer from some sort of alternate universe, and Chikusa places the menu down in front of Ruffian. Still holding his vials with one hand, Ruffian eyes him even as he accepts the menu with the other. "Your customer service is shit," he informs Chikusa roughly.   
  
Chikusa doesn't deign to give him a verbal answer. Instead, all he does is wordlessly and pointedly stare down at the variety of vials Ruffian is still holding, and waits until he bristles even further. Then, Chikusa turns on his heel, disappearing into the back for only but a second.   
  
In that short amount of time, the Ruffian is going over the menu with heavy scrutiny... so heavy and involved that he almost doesn't notice the glass of water Chikusa sets down by his hand. Almost, but not quite, and he gives a small jerk when he realizes just what's been placed down. "Hey, hey!" he snarls, green eyes almost seeming to flash even brighter as he glares up at Chikusa. "Don't try and pull some highway robbery with your service. I didn't order this!"   
  
At least this is expected, to a certain degree if nothing else. Chiksua can't say he knows anything about the other world as well as those who've been raised there, but, if the past and even the current present is any indication, a lot of places don't expect free water. Tucking his hand lazily into the pocket of his apron, Chikusa tilts his head towards Ruffian. "It's a complimentary drink... so you don't have to pay anything for it."   
  
"I'll remember you said that," Ruffian says stubbornly, like he's still expecting to get tricked, before he finally puts down the vials he was holding. They rest on the tabletop, and Ruffian uses his now free hand to lightly smack the menu. "But if you're going to stick around, then I have some questions."

It's his restaurant, so Chikusa isn't really sure where this guy thinks he'll go... but whatever. Trying not to slouch too badly, a habit he knows he's still fighting, Chikusa does the bare minimum in raising an eyebrow. "What do you want to know?" The customer isn't always right, and all that, but he figures he might as well hear the guy out first before making that decision.   
  
Another tap against the menu, plastic wobbling in response. It makes Ruffian bristle a little more, but he moves past that. "I haven't heard of _most_ of these dishes, nor the ingredients they use, even if you organize them by if they have meat, or if they're for breakfast or desert. Just what kind of restaurant _is_ this, anyway?"  
  
"One that just opened." While Ruffian stares at him with incredulous disbelief, Chikusa reaches over to lazily press his fingers along the very top of the menu so that he can guide it back down to laying across the table's surface. Ruffian lets him, perhaps too caught off guard to really stop it. "Still, if you're unfamiliar with the dishes... May I make a suggestion?" His finger moves over to one item that he knows is there without him really needing to even look. "For beginner's... spaghetti is never a bad dish."   
  
While he could make a full fledged and proper Italian meal, aperitivo and all, Chikusa... honestly doesn't want to put in that much effort right now. The only reason his restaurant is even equipped for it is because of that meddlesome god, who he knows will absolutely one day ask for the whole nine yards. For now, a simple plate of spaghetti... That is a simple classic, well liked by just about anyone.   
  
Ruffian doesn't seem to know if he's telling the truth or not, all narrowed eyes and thinned lips, but he gives a jerk of his head soon enough. "Fine. We'll go with that."   
  
"Then your order will be done soon." Chikusa gives another slight bow, and then turns to move back to the kitchen. When he looks over his shoulder at Ruffian again, those green eyes aren't focused on him anymore but rather the door the ruffian came in through. Chikusa has no idea what exactly he was running from... but he can work perfectly assured that nothing will ruin his restaurant.   
  
That, after all, had been _another_ thing he'd made sure to pull out from Mukuro Rokudo's reluctant lips.   
  
Fortunately, pasta is something that Chikusa has become quite familiar with ever since he first learned to cook, whether that's with rice noodles or linguine or soba. He knows the exact right amount of time it takes to cook them to perfection, and his sauce is already perfectly prepared ahead of time. His meatballs, too, are just waiting to be added to a lovely meal. From the oven emerges his bread, too, warm and soft. It's not a particularly fancy meal, honestly... If anyone really wanted to make it, they could try, and probably succeed with no real disasters.   
  
Yet... it's exactly because of how simple it is that Chikusa takes a moment to pause in the midst of his plating, eyes shut while the aroma wafts over him. The simplicity is exact why he has been able to make it so many times over the years, for himself and his father, the only adult he's ever been able to trust. So taking in this pleasant scent... it reminds him, faintly, of why he'd decided to open up a restaurant even with all the troubles he knew would come his way because of it and even those he never could have expected.   
  
"While you're free to only have the water if you wish," Chikusa murmurs when he finally sets the plate down before Ruffian, "there are drinks that enhance the flavor of this meal when had alongside it. If you'd like... I can serve those to you as well." Straightening up, he slides his glasses back into place. "...For an extra fee. Obviously."   
  
Ruffian's eye twitches, and he bares his teeth in an annoyed grin at him. " _Obviously_. You really are cheap, aren't you? How many customers have you even had in this place?"  
  
Well, if he's counting only customers from 'this' side instead of the many people he's had for his grand opening on 'his' side... "You're the first."   
  
"Then you should be grateful that there's even anyone at all, this late in the day!"   
  
"I'm very grateful, which is exactly why I want your money to make sure that I don't close down."   
  
"Tch!" Scowling even more, Ruffian looks down towards his plate with a critical eye, like he thinks it's going to bite him. For better or worse, this _is_ a business, and so there's no real point in arguing on that front. Instead, with his vials kept close enough for him to grab but not to close that they would possibly fall into his food, Ruffian picks up a fork. "What a weird looking sauce, and strange food... If this isn't good, I demand my money back."   
  
Like hell. Chikusa doesn't say that, having enough forethought to know it would just make the situation all the worse. Instead, he watches as Ruffian tries to scoop up a forkful of spaghetti. It's easier than it would be with some brands, even if the technique is sloppy - as expected from someone who has clearly never dealt with noodles of any kind before. But the good thing is that they're not a difficult food to eat, not when a fork manages to snag them well enough. Chikusa has made these noodles himself, just as he needs them to be... so he knows for a fact that they'll hold better than some store bought ones due to the machine that ground them out.   
  
In the restaurant he runs on his own side, where people use yen and would sooner use a knife than a couple thin vials of mysterious liquid for a weapon... This is the part where he'd normally just leave his patron to their meal, and return back to his kitchen. Chikusa knows himself well, after all. People skills aren't something that he's ever excelled at, whether he was a child, a teenager, or his current life as an independent adult now. The kitchen might be a mess of a place sometimes depending on what he's cooking, which he despises occasionally, but it's always been somewhere he's found some measure of reprieve in.   
  
The soothing repetitive motions of knifework, the mixing of ingredients he always found soothing like in his school chemistry classes, the variety of smells that would steadily fill such a room... He'd liked them ever since he had first started learning alongside his father. When he'd taken up part time jobs in other restaurant kitchens, he'd come to like the separation as well. In a kitchen, he doesn't have to worry about if he smiles at the customers. He doesn't have to worry about being _palatable_. He just has to make good food.   
  
But here, for this... Chikusa finds himself lingering behind, hand in his apron pocket again as he watches Ruffian raise the fork to his lips. There's a spark of curiosity in his chest that his usual apathy can't really extinguish. How will a person like this respond to his cooking...?  
  
He gets his answer almost immediately as soon as the ruffian puts the fork inside his mouth and the taste first lands upon his mouth. Those bright eyes of his widen, stunned and - in short order- pleased at what's filling his mouth. Almost immediately, he tries to scowl again, as though that can hide his true feelings about the meal, but it doesn't work very well. With every chew, more and more flavor is released, until, at last, he swallows. "That... wasn't too bad," he admits, grudgingly appreciative. "The sauce especially... It was surprisingly sweet, in a way. Fresh like I wasn't expecting, this deep in the city. I'm surprised a shitty restaurant with a crappy owner would get their hands on something like this."   
  
"...You're welcome."   
  
Such a reaction - or lack thereof - makes the ruffian scowl again, but the expression doesn't last long as he looks back to his plate for another forkful that his actions betray as eager. As he clumsily tries to get the pasta onto his fork again, Chikusa can see Ruffian's cheeks shift a little bit from where his tongue is rolling the taste around in his mouth again. "But more than just the sweetness, there's a subtle sort of herb mixed in there, too... It adds just a bit more dimension to whatever is the main ingredient to this sauce, along with something else that I can't get enough of." Drawing the noodles up high over the plate, Ruffian narrows his eyes for an even better inspection. "I wasn't sure what these things would taste like... but it's the sauce that brings most of the flavor, isn't it? With something like that, I thought it would slide right off the rest of the spaghetti... But the way its made, there are actually small grooves in it, aren't there?"  
  
Chikusa actually blinks, mildly surprised. "That's right... I'm surprised you noticed." Even that minor of a compliment is enough to make the ruffian swell in pride. Is it that big of a deal? He's pretty sure not. "There are a lot of people and businesses, where I'm from... that do run into the problem you described. They use a cheaper way to make their pasta... and the end result is smoother noodles. But I use brass... And that creates the grooves."   
  
"And the grooves help it absorb and hold onto the pasta." Ruffian grins in a way that's genuinely pleased, no roughness. "That's in- interesting," he quickly corrects himself, smile turning into a scowl quicker than a blink as he looks away. "I wouldn't have thought a guy like you could have thought of something like that, but I guess those four eyes aren't completely useless in the end."   
  
Four eyes? Really? Chikusa quirks up an eyebrow at an insult he didn't hear even in elementary school, but Ruffian is already back to digging in, apparently pleased with his meal. There's even more of that pleasure when he remembers the bread, tearing off a chunk to enjoy it separate and releasing a delighted sigh that not even his bad personality can hold back. "I've never had bread as soft as this... and it takes in all the flavor's of the sauce perfectly."  
  
"It's a primary aspect to eating a meal like this..."   
  
"So that's true even for a strange foreign dish like this, is it?" Ruffian seems to consider this thoughtfully. "Everyone here tends to have bread with their meals as well... But that's just to fill up the gaps in their stomachs should the main meal not be enough. That's all it is in the end: a stopgap. Yet with bread like this... It feels like it's just as important a part of the meal as the pasta is for the sauce."   
  
It's not the only thing that's an important part of the meal, something that Ruffian learns soon enough when he goes for a drink. It's nothing drastic, of course. The water in Platypus Place is crystal clear and ice cold; it's good to have no matter the occasion. Only the most dramatic of people would say that water ruins a meal, whether that meal is breakfast or dinner. Yet there's no denying that it's... not exactly inspiring in _taste_. Its taste is far too subtle, where it neither elevates most foods it is partnered with nor contrasts against them to draw even further attention to the flavors. If anything, it often dilutes the tastes of a meal, whether lessening them or merging complicated flavors together in an unsatisfactory way.   
  
There's no doubt when Ruffian realizes this, because it shows on his face plain as day. Again, nothing drastic. Simply a pause, his lips pursing a bit as he takes in how the tastes go together - or don't. For someone who even went as far to investigate the way pasta looks, well, Chikusa had a feeling he'd pick up on that kind of thing. Regardless, he glances over at Chikusa with an almost sulky sort of glare, and remains silent.

Obviously, a stubborn idiot like this isn't going to say anything, even though he wants it. Chikusa gives him a moment, and then purposefully makes him wait a little while longer just to get on his nerves. Troublesome people like this aren't worth too much effort, after all. Still, soon enough, he says, "I would recommend a light soda if you wanted something to compliment the taste of the spaghetti."   
  
"If it's the recommendation of the chef, I guess I can go along with it," Ruffian says stiffly and reluctantly. Well, as long as he pays. That's all Chikusa cares about, along with his restaurant being trashed.   
  
In this day and age, almost every restaurant has at least a small variety of sodas on hand. For those that are exceptions, well, they'd be the incredibly formal restaurants who want to impart a very specific taste upon their patrons. For them, the amount of money the rich will impart upon a specific cut of beef, or the work of a renowned chef, more than makes up for upkeep of the restaurant.   
  
Anywhere else needs to have their focus towards something else entirely. For other restaurants, whether just a casual diner, a family restaurant, or something just fancy enough for the average person without being overly extravagant, the focus is more on finding that perfect balance between having a theme while also appealing to a wide variety of people. It's the sort of thing that has brought a lot of fusions, like American Chinese cooking, into existence.   
  
Soda, in Chikusa's opinion, is one of those things that helps broaden the audience. While a lot of adults like having variety on hand, it's also one of the things that most kids like to drink along with whatever they might be eating. So it's good to have on hand... and anyone who bluntly dismisses _all_ soda or carbonated beverages doesn't have sense in their head.   
  
The one he eventually sets down is a more subtle flavor than some of the overloaded sugar disasters he know are popular in some places, like America. Instead, they're citrus flavored, to freshen up the tastebuds from the heavier taste of meat, sauce, and... "Try mixing this in with a little bit of your meal," he says, offering the small plate of freshly grated parmesan cheese. "It adds something as well... And it may be something you'll even like."   
  
Apparently his first patron from this world at least isn't a complete hog. The spaghetti hasn't been utterly devoured, so there's still more than enough for some cheese to be added over it. At this point, even a ruffian seems to have realized that there's no point in fighting against perfectly sound recommendations, because he doesn't bat an eye at the cheese. But then, that's probably a more familiar site than the pasta. "It's impressive how thing you've grated it," he says, grudgingly approving once more. He only takes a small pinch of it to mix in with his next forkful.... but the effect, like all the others, is almost instantaneous. Closing his eyes, he lets out a pleased breath from his nose.   
  
"What a sharper flavor... It really stands out thanks to the sweetness of the sauce. Or maybe that's the wrong word..." They're all more thoughtful mutters to himself rather than any attempts at conversation with Chikusa... But since they're said aloud anyway, Chikusa figures it's perfectly fine for him to stick around and eavesdrop. "They really do complement each other. And that I can decide how intense or light I want the flavor..." Ruffian trails off, the rest of his thoughts locked away in his head to be turned over.   
  
That means he's a little absentminded when he finally picks up his drink, guiding it to his lips. The action of taking a sip is usually faster than even people prepared for it expect, so there's absolutely no time for Ruffian to prepare for the absolutely foreign experience of bubbles crackling and popping along his tongue. That's apparently still enough time for him to almost spit his drink back into the glass, jerking it back onto the tabletop so quickly that Chikusa is amazed nothing spills.   
  
"Did you give me a potion!?" he snarls, hand around one of those vials of his before Chikusa even has time to blink.   
  
Ugh. He hopes this isn't going to happen _every time_ he gives someone a drink similar to soda, or a meal that they aren't expecting. Still as calm as when the ruffian first shoved his way into the restaurant, Chikusa lolls his head to the side. "I'm not someone with that kind of skill... It's only a drink. That sensation you felt on your tongue... It's only something called carbonation... Aaaah, explaining the process and reasoning is too much of a hassle..."   
  
Somehow, his complaining is exactly the kind of thing that, against all odds, makes Ruffian ease up. "Honestly... If you're going to surprise someone, you should at least put in the effort for a proper explanation!"   
  
"That sounds like such a bother..." While Ruffian sinks back down into his seat, Chikusa sighs again. "Just take a proper sip this time... And you'll see what makes it a pleasant accompaniment to your meal."   
  
Even relaxed more than he was previously, ready for some sort of trickery, Ruffian eyes the drink warily as though it might explode in his hands. "Carbonation, huh...?" He tries a slightly larger sip this time, closing his eyes and not reacting so violently when he feels the bubbling on his tongue. Instead, after a couple of seconds, he makes a small noise of interest. "With the way those tiny bubbles constantly pop along my tongue... It does something really impressive to the heavy tastes that I'd had only a second before... I feel like it's been washed away, in a much sharper and more distinct way than only a single sip of water could do."   
  
Academically, Chikusa has always known that. Yet it's something else entirely to hear someone else say it, with such a quiet thread of wonder laced throughout his voice. "So I take it that you like all of this, then...?"   
  
Being reminded of who exactly is the one responsible for introducing him to such new and fantastic tastes makes Ruffian pause again with a reluctant scowl. The pause ends up evolving into an _extended silence_ as he works through his own mental block to give Chikusa any credit whatsoever. Finally, he grits out, "I haven't finished it yet... but everything has been more than edible so far."   
  
Well, he'll accept that. Frankly, it's even almost something he should be proud of. If he can get a wary and bristly idiot like this one to admit his food is even _edible_ , then won't that mean other people will openly like it even more? Well, as long as people continue to visit this restaurant of his and pay him, that's far more important than if they compliment it to his face or not...   
  
Actions are worth as much as words, too, and Ruffian continues to stuff his face more and more with every bite. It's a sign that Chikusa himself could probably just take his leave, and things would be fine... But for his first customer on "this side", he doesn't want to be too reckless. So he sticks around, just to be sure that this isn't a dine and dash sort of situation, eventually going to another table in order to sink down into a seat. Standing for so long... really can be tiring. But, that reminds him... "So, what had you running in here...?"  
  
With sauce smeared along the corner of his mouth and pasta stuffing his cheeks, Ruffian freezes for a second in order to eye him. At least he has manners, making sure to chew and swallow before he says anything. "What's it to you?"  
  
Well, if he were honest, Chikusa supposes that it probably doesn't matter a considerable amount. After all, while he may be an arrogant and spoiled pineapple of divinity, Mukuro Rokudo _had_ made a contract with him. If anything serious were to stumble through those doors... Chikusa is vaguely and relatively certain that he'd still be safe. If he disappears, after all, then that Mukuro Rokudo would have to do a whole lot of work to find someone else who can make him a good dozen parfaits again all in a single sitting. So it's really none of his business if this guy has some drama in his life.   
  
...Unless he _does_ , and there are people after him, and he lets slip the location of this place, and those people stumble onto his restaurant by sheer luck... Chikusa would still be safe, yeah, yeah, but the resulting clusterfuck would make a tiresome day all the more tiresome. Besides, what if it chases out customers?   
  
So Chikusa tells him bluntly, "You're in my restaurant... isn't that enough?"   
  
Just that much is enough to make Ruffian scowl, but not argue, which is all Chikusa really needs from him. Still, perhaps as petty payback, he finishes off another large forkful of his meal. At this rate, not much of the pasta is left, and there's only a little bit of bread that is presumably to soak up whatever sauce is left behind. "Since it does seem like you might be a legitimate business, against all expectations... I guess it's only right for you to know."   
  
"I could just kick you out if you turned out to be a pest..."   
  
Ruffian continues on as if he hadn't even spoken in the first place. "I'll have you know that I was once a disciple of the wondrous god, He of Ember and Wildfire!" With an arrogance that almost doesn't seem like it can be held back by a mortal body, Ruffian places his hand against his chest proudly. "I am Hayato Gokudera, and I'm to protect His beautifully burning name with every once of my being! A foreigner like you surely wouldn't get it, but if you just took a step into one shrine of His, one church, then you would be blinded by His teachings! There is no other god so amazing, so generous, so brave! To worship Him is to find not only a radiant afterlife, but to live as you are now with no regrets and no misery! If you have any sense in that head of yours, you'll go and see it all as soon as you shut down this restaurant for the day. Trust me, once you experience it for yourself, that's that!"   
  
Oh god, his first customer is a missionary.

Chikusa doesn't make a face, exactly, just lets out a soft sigh before he patiently begins to dig back through all the words that have just been spewed out at him. While a lot of it just sounds like simple indoctrination to this religion he doesn't even know about - he knows one god and he's been a pain in the ass ever since he met him - a few things stand out. For example... " _Was once_. Meaning... past tense."   
  
Ruffian - no, Hayato Gokudera - grimaces at that, which means Chikusa was right to point that out. "Only in terms of it being _official_ ," he says, aggravated almost immediately. Sore subject. Noted. "I'm still the most devoted person to Ember and Wildfire that you'll find in this entire city. There was just a screw up, that's it."   
  
Uh huh. "Does that screw up... have anything to do with why you ran into my restaurant..." Hayato Gokudera's embarrassed jerk tells a lot, but not _all_.   
  
It takes a while for him to needle the guy into giving him something that's even roughly the whole story, but, so long as he's sitting down and not moving around very much, Chikusa can be a pretty patient guy himself. Eventually, it all comes out. Hayato Gokudera really _is_ a religious fanatic to this "Ember and Wildfire" guy. He really _was_ an actual and official devotee at one of the shrines. It's just, he's also apparently a ruffian down to his core, and even other devotees thought him _overzealous_. It was one thing when that zealousness was directed towards shrine duties, or yelling at just your average person... But then some sort of local gang started up something on shrine property, Hayato Gokudera got involved which made it a thousand times worse, and that was finally the last straw which had the shrine elders request that Hayato Gokudera kindly never come back.   
  
Of course, that left him on his own, which was something of a problem when the same gang he'd raised hell at decided to get back at him. It's one thing to start shit when you have the backing of a fairly large religious organization behind you, even if they didn't ask for it. But on one's own, well... That had lead to a chase throughout the city, plus a couple of casualties. Hayato Gokudera may have been a religious man, but apparently he's also more than good enough of a scrapper... and something else, too.   
  
"Alchemist...?" Chikusa echos, tilting his head to the side. This would probably sound suspicious to the average person on the other side, but he follows it up with something that's not-quite-a-lie. "This is my first time meeting one..."   
  
That would be because alchemists don't exist in his world. There are chemists, sure, but their work isn't quite as _magical_ as the idea of alchemy seems to imply. Certainly it explains just what those vials are for, although Chikusa doesn't know the exact effects. Leaning back in his chair until the front legs rise up off the floor, Hayato Gokudera snorts. "Jeez, you really did some from some small foreign place in the middle of nowhere, haven't you?" He crosses his arms, plate now completely cleared away. For all his complaining, he really must have liked it. "Anyway, I was just trying to find somewhere to duck out of sight for a while, but really no one has come in here since I have..."  
  
"I did just open," Chikusa says, and casually ignores mentioning everything else that would contribute to making this place hard to find. Well, for the most part. "And a magic door is kind of troublesome..."   
  
That's more than enough to make Hayato Gokudera perk up, bouncing over to the door again with one hell of a spring in his step. "So it really is the door that's magic!? I've heard of some spacial magic used in certain places, but nothing like this! For an enchantment of this level.... I wonder what kind of flamestones were used... normally you'd use sky or mist, but..." All his thoughts begin to dissolve into thoughtful muttering, and Chikusa lets him at it. He has more important things to do, like cleaning up the table that Hayato Gokudera has just finished using. He's lucky that he can clean most of it up by piling the dishes up to be held in one hand. If nothing else, this one has been relatively neat as a diner.  
  
By the time he's finished, no one else has entered, and Hayato Gokudera is still poking about the door. That's fine. What's more worrying is the fact that he has one of his vials in his hand - different from the ones he'd held upon entering, something Chikusa thinks he'd seen on the man's belt. Chikusa doesn't really _glare_ , but his mouth does give a slight twitch in the vicinity of a frown. "Hey... What are you doing?"  
  
Hayato Gokudera jolts like he'd heard a ghost, glaring over his shoulder at Chikusa. What's the big deal, honestly? It's not his fault that he's always had a soft way of walking, even at his most rushed. "It's nothing important, I'm just going to do some tests," he says, the vial in his hands uncorked.   
  
He doesn't like the sound of that. "No," Chikusa replies plainly.   
  
Predictably, Hayato Gokudera scowls. "Don't be such a nuisance. It's only going to be a couple drops of different potions, just to see if I can figure out the particulars of the magics which react to them."   
  
"...Still no."   
  
"Ugh!" Despite the snarl of frustration, Hayato Gokudera still shoves the cork back into his vial and puts it at its place along his belt. It's good to see that even a ruffian like him can understand simple rules of consent... "Do you really have that little faith in how this door will continue to function even after only a few minor tests?"  
  
"...Yes."  
  
Hayato Gokudera presses his hand against his head, shoulders slumping in annoyance. "...If you're going to say it like that with that same lazy lack of hesitation that you've been using this whole time... then it must have been an absolute weirdo who ended up making and installing this thing." Well, he's not wrong on that. Chikusa won't give him much more detail for that answer, however, and instead watches as the alchemist and former devotee turns to look over the door while rubbing his chin. "It would take so much longer to investigate it if I can't use my potions... And I don't know if I can even find a job in this city anymore..."   
  
That much isn't surprising to hear. After working in what is apparently quite a popular shrine for quite a popular god, it's only going to be expected that a lot of people will know about Hayato Gokudera... and probably not want to deal with his over the top nonsense at their place of work. That's not even talking about how the whole gang incident affects all of this. While one wouldn't mistake a priest or devotee or whatever as to be some sort of criminal, with the bullshit that this guy has gotten up to, it's guaranteed that it would end up affecting his place of work, too.   
  
Unless.... Tilting his head to the side and sliding his hand out of his pocket, Chikusa steps forward a little more towards him. "...So you don't have a job right now, is that right..."   
  
Immediately, Hayato Gokudera has a defensive scowl set upon his face. "I have money," he says, as Chikusa idly begins to approach him step by step. "It's not like I'm some degenerate who planned on stealing food. I wouldn't have sat down in that case. So just-"   
  
He's firmly interrupted by Chikusa suddenly surging forward, pinning him against the door with his arm pinned right besides Hayato Gokudera's head. While the alchemist jerks in surprise, likely not having expected that from such a sleepy looking 'civilian' type of person, Chikusa takes advantage of his stunned state to take his chin inbetween his thumb and forefinger. This close, he can definitely be sure... "...You... don't look too bad, I guess..."   
  
As expected, there's some bristling involved. "What does _that_ mean!?"  
  
"You're handsome," Chikusa tells him bluntly, and watches that simple sentence seem to short circuit something behind Hayato Gokudera's eyes. Well, that works out just fine for him. Chikusa turns his head to the side, looking over his profile. "And you seem to have some idea of how to stay clean, too..." That's especially important.   
  
Finally coming to a little bit, Hayato Gokudera smacks his hand away from his face, although that still leaves him pinned to the door. "Wait, are you saying you want me to pay off my debt with my _body_!?" he snaps, voice going maybe just a little higher than it usually is.   
  
"Yeah."  
  
Hayato Gokudera stares at him, absolutely stunned for the second time in quick succession. "...I knew you were the kind of guy that was an absolute weirdo... but that you'd so openly admit it like that... This has nothing to do with you being from another country and just you being an absolute... _something_."   
  
Whups. Or something. It looks like he's made a misunderstanding, something that definitely wasn't done on purpose. "Do you mean this country doesn't require your body to work?" he asks with the same dull and quiet tone of voice he's become infamous for even back home. "That's all I was thinking of... Since it occurred to me that running both the kitchen and the dining area by myself... That would be really bothersome, you know...? Especially if this whole venture really takes off... so it would be better to have someone acting as a server here..." He blinks. "What."   
  
Hayato Gokudera's stare is absolutely _flat_ , with one eyebrow twitching. "You were talking about _work_!?" he finally snaps, hand clenched into trembling claw-like shapes as if he's holding back from throttling Chikusa. Well, he probably won't, so there's no big deal there.   
  
"Of course.... What else would I be talking about?" He knows. He absolutely knows. But with Chikusa's blank expression, he doesn't feel like Hayato Gokudera needs to know.   
  
His eyebrow twitches once again. "And you were making a work proposal by pinning me to the door like this?"   
  
"I had to make sure that you would be attractive enough to warrant hiring."   
  
"What do my looks have to do with anything!?"  
  
"....You've never run a business, have you..."

"That doesn't explain anything, you ass!" Finally, Hayato Gokudera pushes him off of him, although not as rough as he could be. Chikusa isn't what he would consider a _brawler_ of any sort, but he has been in enough fights to know when someone is trying to pick one as to when someone is just trying to clear some space. Objectives done (assessing Hayato Gokudera, poking fun at him), he's more than fine with following the momentum to take a few steps back. Hayato Gokudera dusts himself off, eyeing him. "But are you actually serious about hiring me?"   
  
Chikusa looks him straight in the eye. "I don't want to do more work than I absolutely have to."   
  
"Now who doesn't know anything about running a business..." With his nose scrunching up in annoyance, his eyes flicker over Chikusa once again. He's clearly trying to decide if this is a more worthwhile endeavor than it is an annoying one. Well, on that level, Chikusa supposes he can understand it. "If I stay here... then I'm going to make some demands along with what my pay will be."   
  
Why doesn't he like the sound of that... Still, turning around, Chikusa shuffles over to one of the tables so that he can take a seat. If he's going to haggle over just how much some rando is going to make while working in his restaurant, then he'd rather do it while sitting down. "If they get granted... depends on the demands."   
  
Fortunately, it's not as bad as Chikusa was warily worried they would be. Hayato Gokudera, ruffian that he may be, on the run from a gang in the city, is also what one would call _a huge nerd_. As an alchemist, he has an intense interest in not only things that are mixed together in the line of potions, but also an interest in that which is magical. Chikusa isn't sure what alchemy is like in that other world... but apparently a careful balance of both "science" and "magic" are required to be a good alchemist.   
  
So on the magical side of things, well... It's obvious as to what could have his attention so thoroughly captured. If Chikusa won't let him experiment on the door with the use of his potions or any other alchemical skill, then the least he could do is let his worker inspect it in other ways while he's working at the restaurant. They both agree, at least, that he _obviously_ can't do it while the restaurant is actively open, if only because someone might open the door and slam it into his face if nothing else... But after his shift, if he wants to hang around for another half hour or so, Chikusa has no problems with that.   
  
It's his other demand that's a little surprising: the desire to learn how exactly to cook the meals that Chikusa can make in his own restaurant. Normally, that too wouldn't be too much of a big deal... All Chikusa supposes he has to do is work as he normally does, and trust Hayato Gokudera to watch and take notes. However, he does have to wonder... Are there even the exact same kinds of foods in that other world? Sure, there's obviously water, obviously sauce and bread, but what about things like tomatoes?   
  
Still, in the end, he agrees to that too, because it's can't _truly_ hurt, he figures. This is mostly because he's relying on the fact that Mukuro Rokudo made this offer to him in the first place. It may be a little foolish to believe the god because of that... but it also makes sense, too. This place is all for _his_ sake and gluttony, isn't it? If something happens to Chikusa or the restaurant as a whole, then that's a problem for him. That means, while some things are of course going to be different, the vast majority must not be, or else his food would stand out far too much. More than it clearly already does.   
  
If he's wrong, well, then Chikusa supposes he's wrong, but then that's mostly Mukuro Rokudo's fault for being selfish and reckless. Chikusa takes no responsibility.   
  
As the payment negotiations wind down, Hayato leans back in his chair again with the front legs off the floor entirely once more. "I sure wasn't expecting this when I opened that door," he mutters. "What's with the restaurant's _name_ , anyway? If I wasn't looking for a place to duck into and hide out for a while, I never would have thought it was a restaurant, or even what it was at all. What's a _platypus_? Some sort of mythical creature from your homeland?"   
  
"Mythical creature... Well, I guess some people thought it wasn't real for a while..." Chikusa decides not to answer the part about if it's from his homeland, mostly because it's _not_. But he really doesn't want to have some big conversation where he has to figure out how to frame his world in this world and it's just... a nuisance. He doesn't want to bother. Instead, he answers the more roundabout question that Hayato is asking. "It's a creature... that no one could tell was a bird or a mammal... and is extremely poisonous. It's something that reminds me... of someone important."   
  
There's no need to tell Hayato anything further on that front. No need to tell him about how Chikusa used to not be "Chikusa" at all, but a nameless boy with blood relatives that only saw him as a means to an end, a useful tool, instead of a breathing and living human being. No need to tell him about how he'd run away, and no one had listened, no one had cared to put stock in the words of a child, no one had done anything better for him.   
  
What would be the point in explaining his past as a child criminal, stealing from people in order to learn, in order to feed himself? It would only be troublesome to explain how he technically committed murder and, despite being a child, didn't bat an eye at it. Where would he even begin on the law aspect of it, how it had been such a national news sort of event that so many people were making _conspiracy theories_ about how it couldn't have really been him? How, even at the end of it when it all wound down, no one wanted to take such a busted up child that couldn't even emote properly? Who wanted to just lay down and become _nothing_?  
  
How it was a Chinese man with a fake eye that had taken an interest in him, had waited for him to speak no matter how long it took, and actually listened? Who had his own sins to carry, and didn't seem to mind the strange things Chikusa did? Who even validated him on some level? Who had laughed, the first time Chikusa had struggled to get him a gift _years_ later for the Christmas days, a little platypus tea infuser because Chikusa had asked him what his favorite animal was and Hakkai had just messed with him while not giving an answer so he'd had to take a furry test on his behalf just to figure it out? Who has always kept that little platypus, even now, years later?   
  
Even the simplest explanation would leave more questions than answers in its wake, which would inevitably be asked, and Chikusa just doesn't want to deal with all of that. So he leaves it at only that: it reminds him of someone important. Frankly, no one needs to know more than that.   
  
At least it seems to be enough for Hayato, at the present if nothing else, because he just makes a mindless noise of understanding with no follow up. "What a weird creature," he says. "Well, whatever. How do you expect it to be recognized as a restaurant?"  
  
"Why are you asking me..."   
  
"... _This is your restaurant, you pain in the ass_." Growling in immense frustration, Hayato drags his hands down his face, and his eyebrow begins to twitch again. "Did you seriously put no thought into opening a business!?"  
  
"Mm, I did." Well, he guesses he shouldn't antagonize his newest employee so soon. In contrast to the way Hayato leans back, Chikusa slumps forward again with his hands stretched out against the table. "I mean... the platypus does have a bib around its neck... and a chef's hat.... So I figured that, and word of mouth, would do enough."   
  
That doesn't seem to reassure Hayato very much at all, but that's fine. This other world isn't meant to be Chikusa's primary place of business anyway. If even a few people come by, then it will work out for him with the exchange rate that he and Mukuro Rokudo figured out. He doesn't really plan on telling that to Hayato, however. Already, Chikusa had decided to keep Mukuro Rokudo's existence and involvement a secret just to the ordinary person... but for an ultra-religious weirdo like Hayato Gokudera?   
  
Yeah... No.   
  
"....I mean, it is very convenient." Chikusa idly follows the movement of his own hand as Hayato jerks it around.   
  
"Maybe I should just take over this restaurant from such a pain in the ass and lazy owner," Hayato grumbles, flopping Chikusa's hand around a few more times before he finally drops it. "So the day after tomorrow, right? I expect a good uniform to be in place!"   
  
"You're lucky... that your appearance is as good as your personality is bad..."   
  
"Eat my entire ass, you lazy fucking cook."   
  
It's only when Hayato finally leaves does Chikusa bother to check the time. With how much time he'd spent cooking for and talking with Hayato, he's not surprised to see that a lot of time has actually passed. While the doors may open up in all sorts of places... their status is very much ephemeral. It will likely take a long time before those doors are all properly opened by the right person looking for a good meal. Thus meaning an even longer amount of time for him to start getting regular customers...   
  
"...So, basically, if it's at this stage, then I can just say I'm closing early once I finish serving you, right...?"

His restaurant is empty, until it suddenly isn't, with the air right in the center of it warping just like it had on that first fateful night. A certain tell-tale chuckle echoes throughout the dining area. "You really are quite impatient, my precious Chikusa Kakimoto," Mukuro Rokudo purrs, leaning forward in mid-air to draw his fingers down the side of Chikusa's face. "Isn't it better to be a little ambitious when you're someone who's running a business?"   
  
"Mm.... Well... If you're really complaining... I guess I can always open up again, and you'll have to wait that much longer for whatever it is that you wanted to request for my offering today-"   
  
Those smooth fingers stop right at his jaw, and Mukuro Rokudo tries very hard not to look like he's just been hit in the head with a metaphorical 2x4. "Of course, understanding one's limits is important as well," he says casually, like Chikusa didn't just threaten him via withholding sweets. "Such a big day for two different universes... I understand that humans are so delicate and fragile, so perhaps it is best to finish things up. Don't you agree, my precious Chikusa?"   
  
If this kind of person could possess him, Chikusa is fairly certain that he would, with how spoiled he is... For now, he doesn't say that aloud. Instead, casually ignoring the touch against his face, he nods slightly. "What would you like to eat tonight then, Mukuro Rokudo-sama?"  
  
With a snap of his fingers, Mukuro Rokudo draws one of the new and improved menus over to himself to eagerly begin browsing. Chikusa doesn't really understand _why_ he feels the need to go over it again; the god was the person he made it with. If anything, it's their efforts combined. Just remembering that annoying set of nights really makes him tired all over again, honestly... He's pretty sure that if he had left all the work to Mukuro Rokudo, like he had very much been tempted to at the start, then he'd have basically every single dish from all three of his specialties put on there. It wouldn't be a "menu" at that point. It would be a cookbook.   
  
He's snapped out of those miserable memories by Mukuro Rokudo flicking his finger against a certain something on the page. "I've decided - this one. This... mango pudding."   
  
It's another dessert... Chikusa doesn't really understand it. Are gods supposed to have sweet teeth? Whatever. This is his most important patron, so... Pulling away, he gives a light bow. "I'll get it ready for you right now, Mukuro Rokudo-sama."   
  
Fortunately, mango pudding is one of the easier things to fetch when it comes to the majority of desserts he has prepped. Honestly, the _making_ of it hardly takes any time at all. It's all about getting it at the right temperature, allowing it to set at the perfect consistency and a smooth surface that just begs to be broken in with a spoon. Beyond that... Well. Beyond that, it's simply choosing the exact right ingredients.   
  
Really, that's true for any dish. Chikusa is glad to say that his eye for _that_ aspect is good as well.   
  
At least he was expecting something like this to happen, because mango pudding is one of those desserts he's found that tends to sell pretty quickly.... So he has a nice tray full of the delicate little glasses all prepared just for his most bothersome patron. Once they're all set down in front of him at a table, which Chikusa is fine with him _not_ sitting at, Mukuro immediately grabs one for himself.   
  
Much like Hayato, there's an immediate response, and Mukuro Rokudo sighs in satisfaction. "The way that such a thing melts in my mouth almost immediately at first contact... The intense taste of fresh mango that brings such a delightful balanced sweetness... I adore it all." He gives a smug nod to himself. "Then, I will take this back with me to my domain, Chikusa Kakimoto, and look forward to when you next open."   
  
Before Chikusa can even protest, the god disappears out of sight, and the strange otherworldly feeling in the restaurant disappears. Annoyed, Chikusa sighs and allows his shoulders to slump. He couldn't even tell the meddlesome deity that he wanted those glasses back... Well, he supposes that will have to wait for the next time.   
  
After all, isn't it a given that he'll continue serving food to another world?

* * *

His second, third, and a good half dozen customers after that all come into his restaurant without much fanfare. Chikusa can't even begin to say exactly where it is that they've stumbled upon his door in that other world, but, for them at least, it must be nowhere special, nowhere particularly strange or unique like in Hayato's case. They come in, treat it exactly like any other restaurant, compliment his cooking, and leave. Honestly, in those cases, he's quite pleased that he's hired someone new from this particular world to act as a server. Hayato can do all the accepting of compliments, and all other social obligations.   
  
Chikusa even has to admit that the other man isn't... too bad. Oh, he's a pain in the ass on some occasions, to be sure. His personality is more than a little abrasive, he gives off the impression of someone who's a complete thug, no mundane human has the ability to be as smug as he acts sometimes, and his constant adoration of that god he loves so much... It's a lot. Good lord, is it a lot.   
  
Yet Hayato is still actually pretty intelligent, and, for all that he _can_ run his mouth, he often doesn't, and instead seems just as content as Chikusa is for the two of them to work in a silence that's almost comfortable. He doesn't take to cooking as well as Chikusa suspects an alchemist _should_ , prone to letting things burn or catch on fire because he's more concerned on everything being completely accurate down to the very atom if he can get away with it... but it's manageable when he's under supervision.   
  
While disappointing on some level that he'll still be making all the dishes for a second restaurant on top of the one he meant to open, Chikusa doesn't mind it to much. He just keeps on working, and finds himself almost surprised that it's not as big a change to his life as one would think an interdimensional restaurant with a god for its primary patron would be. Maybe, just maybe, he can have this kind of double life without there being much trouble at all.   
  
And then a muscular mummy enters in one night when Chikusa is wearing his favorite beanie.   
  
It's one of his earflap beanies too, which Chikusa doesn't often tend to wear to the kitchen on simply the basis that the strings for such hats often swing their way right into his face. Yet he's always personally felt that his favorite has brought him more good luck than bad and, anyway, the strings attached to it are designed and weighted differently than just loose floppy things so they don't get in the way nearly as much. It's fine.   
  
He also mistakenly thought it was going to be a fine night to clean up the restaurant. No customer has given him any particular trouble or mess, and Hayato takes his work meal into the back out of sight to gladly hog into it without being bothered. It's around the perfect time to start wrapping up for the night on this side, Chikusa thinks. That means of course the second he starts drifting off to get the bus bin with its washcloth, the door swings open.   
  
Wondering why he even bothers to look in the direction of optimism, Chikusa glances over to the door only to pause. Most of his customers from "this" side have looked like regular humans, at least to his eyes. Even Mukuro Rokudo, an actual god if he's to be believed, tends to look like something approaching human, even if that human does have extremely questionable tastes in hair stylists. But the person standing in the entrance to his restaurant is... human _oid_ , with Chikusa unable to tell just how much more he has to adjust that descriptor.   
  
Oh, he can describe him in plenty of other ways, easy. He's taller than him, which is a rare and faintly interesting occurrence, and his dark hair falls in sloppy waves around his face, over his shoulders. More importantly, and more strikingly he supposes, bandages absolutely cover the man from head to presumably toe. Chikusa has no idea if he even has two eyes, with one covered by some of his hair, and it seems that the person's mouth barely manages to peek through, just like one eerily pale glowing eye. Over all of this, obscuring the rest of his body, is an enormous cloak, resting over a long thick coat underneath it. What might be beneath such clothing, whether a decaying body or more bandages or clothes, is impossible to tell. All Chikusa can see are the thick dark boots that rest along the wooden floor of his establishment.   
  
As the door swings shut behind this individual, Chikusa thinks he can see stones protruding from snow, the sharp glare of a full moon, and then it's blocked by deceivingly simple wood.   
  
Well, he guesses it doesn't matter too much where the door lead to this time. Shrugging off the expectations he had for the night, Chikusa turns to his latest patron and gestures to the rest of the restaurant. At least they're always quick to remove plates and the like, he's pleased to say, so every table is perfectly clean even without his efforts to close up for the night. "Welcome to Platypus Place. Feel free to take a seat wherever you like.... We'll be there shortly." Or, well. He'll be there. Hayato is on break, after all. Chikusa may admit he's a bastard on more than one occasion, but he does at least run a fair workplace.   
  
Or, well. He doesn't know what the labor laws are in some alternate world, since that's information Mukuro Rokudo declined to give him in any meaningful way, but he knows that, back home, he needs to give his employees breaks. It's just common sense anyway, if he wants Hayato to stay on.   
  
The man's eye, drifting about to survey the place, finally loops back around to rest on Chikusa. Even for him, it's an eerie sensation, heavy, and for some reason he's faintly reminded of every time he got into trouble with authority figures as a young teenager. It's hard to tell underneath all the bandages, but it seems as though the person swallows thickly to work a dry and rusty throat before he begins to speak. "This place... is a restaurant, is it?"   
  
Something about his voice, deep and full, makes Chikusa think of places so far underwater that creatures lose their eyes for lack of needing them, where fish have too long teeth and things that seem safe aren't. He brushes the sensation to the side, instead meeting the person's eyes and giving a slight nod. "That's right."

"A restaurant... in a place like this..." There's no elaboration to what he means. All he does is quietly move over to one of the nearby tables, not seeming particularly picky about which one. Despite the heavy looking state of his boots, he hardly seems to make a sound as he moves, and his clothing almost gives him the illusion of floating. "You have my curiosity, then... I'll see what you can provide, and judge it accordingly."   
  
That makes it sound like he's some sort of mummified food critic, but, well. Chikusa rolls with it, because his life already got weird enough once the other worldly god got involved with his business. "Then... I'll bring you your menu."   
  
Right as he's in the middle of that, however, a hand grabs him by the arm to drag him further into the small staff cubby that's to the side where all their cleaning equipment and the like is hidden. Chikusa allows it, not even blinking or digging his feet against the floor. All he does is let Hayato jerk him around until he's being held up by his arms, and Hayato is looking at him like he's just lost at least half his mind. "What are you _doing_!?" he hisses, glancing towards the corner as though he has to visibly restrain himself from peering around it.   
  
Kind of a dumb question, honestly. "I'm working," he answers simply and bluntly. "You're on break." He's done it before, obviously, and Hayato should know that.   
  
Well, that's what he sort of thinks, but they both know that's not the real issue, and Hayato scowls at him. "Do you even know what that is!?" Hayato issues, gesturing wildly in the direction of their latest customer. When all Chikusa does is stare blankly at him, Hayato lets out a frustrated breath directly between his teeth that's almost as sharp as one of Chikusa's knives. "That's one of the _Vindice_. You know - that cult of undead freaks who made a pact with something beyond the Arcobaleno? Who are waiting for the end of the universe, and sometimes make shadowy deals with governments or criminals to lock up those who've gone against the laws of the world?"   
  
He absolutely doesn't know, although Chikusa has to admit that it's amusing to him that apparently even this world has taken in a bit of Italian into it. What an interesting name to give to the group Hayato has just described. Still, he tilts his head, searching through his memories. While he may not be native to this world, and a lot of things outside his restaurant are a mystery to him, fortunately, in this case, Hayato's constant preaching about his god has come in handy. Everything tends to revolve around his favored god, of course, but that's still enough for Chikusa to have pieced some things together.   
  
From what he can tell, there are basically four levels of divinity - or whatever counts for it - amongst the religion in this world. It's honestly not too unlike what he knows about the hierarchy of angels from Christianity in that respect. At the lowest are merely various spirits, which can range from animals to places to even people. (That's a bit more like Shintoism, he's pretty sure.) Some of them can have a bit more respect put to their name, depending on if they have a connection to a certain god - coincidentally, the next level up. Gods basically rule over a certain domain, which is far more open than just a single place or even an item, and are the ones humans interact with the most. Or, at least, they're worshipped the most.   
  
After that.... The Arcobaleno, a group of beings that _are_ their domain instead of simply ruling it, which has taken a little bit for Chikusa to wrap his head around. As far as he can tell, they helped create the world, some of them had gods as children, and now mostly leave it well enough alone besides watching it in much the same manner of a person watching their own personal ant farm. Maybe they drop in a crumb now and then, to keep things going, but it's mostly a voyeur watching something sustain itself.   
  
Then, beyond that... There's the void. Chikusa knows the least about that, considering that Hayato rarely ever talks much about it, and he can't help but wonder if that's something unique to Hayato or if most of the people in the world rarely talk about it. After all, if beyond the Arcobaleno is the void, and the Arcobaleno rarely interact with humankind to begin with, then doesn't that mean the void - something unknowable and endless by definition - is even more distant than that? From the implications Hayato's given, it seems like just a vague concept. A "beginning" and an "end".   
  
So with all of that in mind, he finally makes up his mind on what to say, even with Hayato glaring at him after having been made to wait for a good couple of minutes on a response. "Well, even if that's the case... He's still a customer." What Chikusa sort of wants to know is how someone can be a follower of such a vague concept as the void, but that can be for another time. For the time being, Chikusa turns around and grabs a menu off from their small holding box on the counter.   
  
Hayato looks as though he wants to wrap his fingers around Chikusa's throat next instead of just around his arms. "He's undead!"   
  
Chikusa pauses for just a moment to consider that point. "Ah.... That's right. That reminds me of something... Thanks." And with that, he's right out into the main dining area again. From the corner of his eye, he thinks he can spot Hayato bristling in frustration before he turns and disappears further into the back, where only staff are allowed to go. Well, that's fine too. As long as he stays out of trouble.   
  
His customer is right where he left him, hands clasping each other at a rest on the tabletop, and fittingly still as the dead. He doesn't even move his head when Chikusa approaches him, only shifts to allow his eye to follow him completely. Well, that's fine too. Chikusa ignores it, and simply places the menu down in front of those still hands. He has something more important to focus on. "Sorry for the delay... Although I do have a question for you that was brought up by a concerned employee..." Somewhere, Hayato is probably sneezing at having the blame shifted to him. "You do have money to pay with, don't you, sir?" Hm, although now that brings up a different issue, and Chikusa tilts his head to the side. "...I hope that isn't discriminatory... but from what I understand, it feels like someone like you wouldn't really have a need for money... I'm not really sure. So. I'm asking."

The man stares at him for a moment, surprised before he lowers his chin down nearer to his chest, making a brief and faint sound that could nearly be a laugh. "So it's only something paltry like that, is it?" His fingers slide out from one another. Chikusa almost expects to hear the sound of bones creaking... but there's nothing. Nothing besides the shift and rustle of cloth against cloth, courtesy of his bandages. The man's hand disappears into his coat for a second and, when he pulls it out, a coin bag is hanging from it. It looks about as old as the rest of him, but it's holding up more than well enough as far as Chikusa can see, and its contents clink heavily against each other when he sets it down on the table. Perhaps well aware of Chikusa's careful eyes that don't leave the sight of it even so, he undoes the strings and reaches inside to pull out one bright and brilliant coin. "Will this do?"   
  
Honestly, Chikusa isn't so greedy to demand that the entire thing be emptied out and counted, or whatever.... He just needs to know, like he did with Hayato, that his business can continue to function as a business. So that's all he needs to see. "Hm. Thanks. Then, would you like to take a moment to look through the menu....?"   
  
Leaving his coin bag to rest on the table, the man slowly picks up the menu and turns it in his hands with a sort of idle curiosity. "Why don't you tell me instead... what _you_ would recommend?" It feels sort of like the test, the way those words rest in the man's mouth.   
  
Quickly, Chikusa flickers through what he has available on the menu in his head, going over the prep time and ingredients for each item. He had to spend ages on that thing with a nosy god poking over his shoulder; every single item is something he knows by heart. What he honestly wants to do is not spend too much time on cooking, both because he doesn't feel like spending a lot of time on it at the end of the day, and because he wants a customer out as quickly as possible. Nothing to do with the guy himself, honestly... But Chikusa just really wants to make dinner himself, clean up, and then close for the night so that he can go nap.   
  
With all that in mind, Chikusa reaches a decision in only a couple of seconds. "If that's the case... Then I would recommend a simple pizza, cheeze and basil. In the way that I make them... You'll get them quite quickly to you. Since it's late at night... I'm sure you don't want to wait around too long." A pause, as he considers that. Well, if this was a normal customer running in at the last minute, that would be true, but just to cover his bases.... "Unless you don't mind, I suppose." Maybe the undead run on entirely different time.   
  
Fortunately for his desire to go to sleep, the man just shakes his head, the bares show of movement. Chikusa often does the same, so he can recognize it right away. "That will be for the better. Pizza is what you called it, is it?" With smooth but slow movements, he opens the menu, searching out the food Chikusa has just mentioned. Despite the see number of food available to be ordered and which is thus listed, it doesn't take him very long at all before he manages to find it. There's another soft noise of amusement. "So it's that, is it... Very well. I'll wait for you, chef."   
  
Accepting the menu as it's handed back to him, Chikusa bows his head slightly. In the back of his mind, something about the man's words hold a sense of familiarity - not to him, but in regards to the food he'd suggested. Well, it's none of his business either way. "I'll get your meal to you soon..."   
  
Yet right as he's heading back to the kitchen, the man's voice rises at his back. "Jaeger." Blinking slowly, Chikusa looks over his shoulder at him, and the man meets his gaze squarely. "My name. I doubt it will raise the approval of your employees..." And, while the bandages make it impossible to tell for certain, there almost seems to be a dark smirk in his tone. "But perhaps it shall remind them that I am a person even as I am undead in service to my savior. "  
  
What an interesting way to put it. There's a story behind those words... but it's not a story Chikusa feels he really needs to hear, or be burdened with. He's no hero, no main character. All he happens to be is the owner of a restaurant caught in some peculiar circumstances. So he just nods, a sign that he's heard, before he disappears back into the kitchen.   
  
He's fortunate that pizza, the way that Italy does it instead of Japan, was always something he planned to sell... even if it sometimes takes special occasions for it to go, considering the culture of this new land compared to his birthplace of Italy, or even other western countries like the United States. It's taken a bit of effort to figure out the right balance to sell things that are familiar to the land where his childhood was made, and that are more appealing to the tastes of a country like this. While he could go for any one of the unique combination of toppings... He thinks that something simple, as he suggested to Jaeger, will do.   
  
While pizza _can_ take a while to make, that's only if one doesn't do preparations ahead of time... and for a restaurant, the reason so many foods come out so quickly is exactly because of prep that was done before any of the actual cooking. To make things go even quicker, he decides not to go with something in the oven, but with something else he's been trying: an air fryer. It's a little bit interesting, handling the dough and olive oil, all the ingredients, right there in the fryer basket... but Chikusa has always been good with his hands. Once everything is on the dough, sauce and cheese and all, it goes into the fryer... and comes out with an absolutely perfect crust, cheese melted exactly as he wants. Quick timing as well, for a small pizza that isn't going to overwhelm a single person. It's worth the trouble it takes to remove it with double tong duty, in his opinion, and it looks fantastic when arranged on a plate with basil sprinkled over it.   
  
Closing his eyes, Chikusa takes in a deep breath through his nose, and finds himself satisfied. He learned a long time ago, through simple experience more than anything explicitly told to him, that really enjoying food has more to do than with only its taste. All the senses partake in food, even things one wouldn't normally think of, like hearing. Granted, when it comes to a simple pizza like this one, hearing doesn't really play too much of a huge role. For this, it's all in the look, and in the smell. And it _smells_ absolutely fantastic, the warm bread absolutely filling his lungs almost more than his stomach while the sauce's bright tang keeps his appetite perked up.   
  
Can a mummy even smell? He has no idea, but he supposes, in the case of this world, he's about to find out.

With a plate balanced in one hand and a glass of sparkling water in the other, just in case mummies don't need sugar that might keep them up, Chikusa makes his way back into the dining area. Hayato is still missing, apparently, but their undead patron is still around and unbothered, which is the important thing. Setting down the drink, and then the plate, he gestures to them. "Here you go." Maybe it would be more fitting to say that he'd hope Jaeger would enjoy his meal, or to let him know if there are any problems with it... but Chikusa really doesn't feel like it tonight.   
  
Jaeger leans forward slightly, and perhaps he is of a similar mind when it comes to food and the other senses as Chikusa is, because he first takes in a slow deep breath. Then again, maybe it's the only thing really available to him, the best thing available to him, considering things. "The smell of this is unique.... What does this sauce have within it? There are tomatoes... but none that I have ever been familiar with."   
  
So his sense of smell is that good, is it? Well, Chikusa supposes that's not a bad thing to have. "That's right... I put in a herb called oregano, or at least that's how it's referred to in my country. And there's garlic as well... It's not meant to be a complex sauce." That's the difference between the sauce made for pizza and the sauces that tend to be made for pasta, like spaghetti in particular. It all has to do with the particular foods and manner of cooking that the sauces are being applied to - an uncooked pizza sauce lending well to the oven baking (or air frying, in this case) of the dough, while spaghetti sauce is low simmered and added into already cooked food.   
  
Well, he doesn't tell all of that to Jaeger, obviously. Instead, he just waits on standby, watching as one of those bandaged hands takes up a slice of the pizza. It's so small that it only really needs to be cut up into four slices for those to be enough, unlike larger pies which take up anywhere from six to ten slices. There's a light blow of air along it, and Jaeger takes in how it holds up. Chikusa isn't entirely sure just what he's looking for, or what's going through his mind, until Jaeger speaks. "It really is similar... to the flatbread I was thinking of."   
  
Ah, now that definitely explains a lot, and Chikusa nods slightly. "It's basically the same idea... A lot of people, once they figure out bread, will eventually get the idea to put things on top of it... I guess it's versatile that way. Arguing over the specifics is useless in my opinion... There's maybe one ingredient difference, but it mostly amounts to the thickness of the bread..." As far as Chikusa can tell from having been involved in cooking for most of his life now, lots of people bicker about the exact differences. This is just the most important one in Chikusa's view.   
  
"That certainly explains it." Jaeger finally lifts the slice to his mouth, and does indeed take a bite. Well, apparently mummies can eat. Who knew? He takes a couple of chews before swallowing; there's no plop of it following through some sort of hollow skeletal corpse. Good. Chikusa has enough to clean without that sort of cartoon scenario happening. Sure, it brings up even more questions as much as it answers one, but that can be for some other day. Instead, Jaeger actually.... lets out a slow but content sigh. "Yes, it's very different from the flatbread I remember eating centuries ago..."   
  
...Yeah, that's a thing he certainly just said.   
  
Chikusa blinks, slowly, and decides not to comment. He guesses it makes sense, after all. The guy is undead. He's pretty sure that means they can go for who knows how long, since, well, it's not like a corpse should be up and walking in the first place. Clearly all rules are off. "Like I said.... It's the dough."   
  
"You aren't wrong, in this case." Jaeger takes another bite, and his one visible eye finally drifts shut as if to savor the taste. Clearly his tongue is in perfectly working order, in that case. Good to know. "But the thicker bread for this pizza of yours... It allows even more to be done on it. I'll admit cleverness, in that aspect."   
  
"...Thanks." Chikusa decides not to mention that he wasn't the one to first come up with this way of making pizza. It's far easier to just go along with the conversation as it is. That's a rule he made for himself a while ago, when he first had to start dealing with his situation. Still, things seem to be doing fine, and his mind drifts, trying to figure out how he can just dip out of this conversation. His customer seems happy, the food is being eaten, and Hayato hasn't blown up a hole in a wall. He can probably just use the stock customer service line and-   
  
That's around the time that his stomach decides to give one of the loudest growls it's ever made in all of his existence.   
  
Jaeger stops eating. Chikusa _doesn't_ stop staring dead eyed at a wall. There is an arguably awkward moment of silence between them before Chikusa sighs and decides to go with the upfront and honest answer. "I was cleaning up before you walked in," he says bluntly. "So honestly... If you don't need anything, I'm going to make something for myself in the back really quickly." Since clearly he's the person who's going to have to tend to this customer with Hayato not even wanting to be seen by the guy.   
  
For the first time in this whole encounter, Jaeger actually lets out a laugh - and it doesn't sound like he meant to, either. At the same time that Chikusa just stares, he pauses, shifting back just enough to show he's as surprised as Chikusa is. He adjusts to it quickly, looking over Chikusa with a quick flick of his eye. "...If that's the case, then sit down. You made two servings of this pizza. I will permit you to have one, if you are interested."   
  
On one hand, his partner is going to be a mummy. That's kind of strange, he guesses. On the other hand, this would be a nice way to avoid having to cook any further for the night. Well, that certainly makes up his decision for him. Chikusa inclines his head towards the kitchen area again. "Then, I'll go get a drink... and take you up on that."

And that's how he winds up seated at one of his own tables, a spare plate retrieved for himself and a drink of soda on his right side. Hayato is still missing, which he suspects he should be mildly concerned about, but it's fine. Sort of. The front door has been firmly locked in a way that he knows anyone from this side can't get to the other, and there's only the one door that leads into... wherever the hell it might open in that case. Chikusa is fairly certain that it would just take Hayato back to the city he first found the restaurant in, but, still, he'd prefer it if Hayato stayed inside until Chikusa was certain that he wouldn't trip into a frozen graveyard. He really doesn't want to rehire someone, after all.   
  
It's as he's in the middle of eating a slice of his own that Jaeger spoke up. "It appears that you really do seem to be a legitimate business... This place is heavy with desire."   
  
He has a lot of questions, including what the hell that even means, but Chikusa decides the less he knows, the better. Besides, if he acts too oblivious, then that will no doubt be suspicious to the people who come here. So far, he's been fortunate that the few questions he's asked Hayato have been easy things to dismiss as him being a foreigner from far away who's been lucky enough to set up a restaurant somewhere, cursed with a magic door by either magician or the divine. With someone like this... Chikusa is fairly certain that he has to be even more careful that he doesn't take a misstep into something dangerous. Maybe Mukuro Rokudo would keep him safe in the event that something happened... but it doesn't hurt to be cautious.   
  
So instead he just says, "I don't have any control of where the door goes, for the record." He takes a firm bite of his pizza, using the pause so that he can figure out what else he wants to say on the matter. "...Although it's usually mundane."   
  
"Yes... I would imagine so." Jaeger's plate is half empty at this rate, which is a good sign, and a better one is when he continues to eat, picking up one of the remaining slices. "It is not often I desire things. Tonight was a rare night, where I felt nostalgic. When I saw the door to your restaurant replacing that of one I knew to be an empty tomb, I thought you a sorcerer or criminal encroaching upon holy ground.... I intended to drag you out in chains to punish you for your crimes."  
  
While he's reflecting on how lucky it is that he rarely gives a fuck about the strange and overly excitable, Jaeger continues on. "Instead... Besides the food being properly served, it's been a long time since someone has bothered to treat me in so nonplussed a manner. As though I were any other customer who had walked through your door."   
  
That, at least, he can answer without much fear. "Ah.... But aren't you..." Chikusa makes the bare effort to shrug, taking another bite of his pizza. It's honestly not going to be a lot, but it will fill up the main meal portion of his dinner for tonight, and that's really all he cares about. "You have money... You didn't immediately try to start a fight or anything in my restaurant... So, as far as I could be concerned, you were nothing but a customer from the moment you stepped in. Anything beyond that... it's none of my business, so long as you don't make it so..." If he got involved with every person who stepped through his restaurant's doors, whether on one side or the other, well, it would be a major pain in the ass, frankly. That's not why Chikusa got involved in this sort of thing, after all.   
  
If anything, that only seems to amuse Jaeger even more. "Not many individuals would have such a flexible and clear cut view. Some would even call you strange for it."   
  
"Ah.... I've been called worse." Frankly, if he just gets away with 'strange' in his average life, Chikusa figures that will be good enough. That sort of thing can just be an idle observation with no ill intent. It's better than having insults flung his way. Hell, in this particular situation, he's more than happy to just be strange so long as he doesn't get arrested or put in a cell, or however it is the Vindice treat people they judge to be a problem. Considering the state of the graveyard he briefly saw beyond the door of the restaurant, he's pretty sure it can't be anything particularly _good_. "But I've found things go easier this way."   
  
Jaeger merely nods, and finishes off the rest of his plate. As Chikusa had hoped from the beginning, it's a quick meal that will get the man out quickly. Even though he still has his own dinner to finish off, just that alone is enough to have him leave his plate for the time being, instead rising to his feet when Jaeger does. He's not expecting too much, honestly. Not with the way that Jaeger finally pays mind to his coin bag, picking it up for the appropriate payment. It seems like the same sort of basic transaction that Chikusa has done many times in regards to this other world, and all he does is strand up straight as he waits in front of the man. Rarely does he make this kind of effort, but honestly... He doesn't think he's often ran into guys who are taller than he is, whether in this world or in the one he's grown up in.   
  
Somehow, it doesn't really help, but then again, Jaeger is a lot more muscular than he is as well... Maybe. Or maybe it's just the illusion of his clothing that makes him seem so more imposing than he really is. Chikusa tries not to think on it very much, part of his mind focused on making sure nothing gets sprung on him by surprise, and the other part of him wondering if he can finish this up in time to make a small salad in the back to finish his night up.   
  
Yet despite his best efforts, that too doesn't really help, or keep him from being surprised when Jaeger suddenly grips his hand in the process of sliding his payment into his palm. Chikusa jolts slightly, and it's only then that he realizes how close they've gotten as the small of something... woody, earthy in some way, familiar in a way he hasn't felt a lot of things are in either Japan or this strange new world that's been connected to his simple little restaurant.

It's rosemary, he realizes almost immediately, as soon as he tries to analyze the smell even slightly. Of course it's rosemary. When he was a child, impatiently roaming on the streets of Italy with nothing to his name and with no family to care for him, he can remember rosemary being everywhere. It had simply been one of those plants, and probably still is, at least in the small Italian towns he can remember so clearly. The kind of herb that everyone had and, even if they didn't, then certainly their grandmother did, growing it in a little garden plot along the side of the house, or on the window sill of their home. In every Italian kitchen Chikusa can ever remember glimpsing into, before Hakkai adopted him and took him away from all of it, rosemary had always been somewhere, hanging from a rack or prepared in a small jar.   
  
No decay, no dust, not even snow and ice like is spread out all along the graveyard that Chikusa's door opens to for this man. Just rosemary, so thick that it could make it grow right in Chikusa's lungs. Somehow, it knocks him off guard, and he can only stare when those hands fold over the one he has held out to Jaeger for the payment. In his head, he thought that they would be scratchier... but instead, they're soft, almost velvety in the same way as the paper covering for a straw is after it's been folded over again and again, made into a little ball before rolled out into a flat state of existence all over again. Somehow, even though he has decently sized hands and long fingers himself, Chikusa can't help how small they feel in Jaeger's grip.   
  
"Every other place I have ever gone to after my devotion solidified my existence has been a tiresome experience.... It has been that way for centuries." His hands are meant to keep him trapped there, Chikusa realizes, but in a slightly less alarming way than, say, if Jaeger simply grabbed his wrists or shirt. It's still incredibly strange, to say the least, but Chikusa forces himself to stop looking at Jaeger's hands and instead up at the rest of him so that he isn't caught off guard by anything else. Jaeger merely continues talking, not even blinking as he meets Chikusa's stare squarely. "Which I accepted gladly in my savior's name, of course. Yet this nostalgia of food you have prepared, and yourself... It is not a bad thing." He raises his chin slightly, decisively. "I will come back to this place."   
  
Well, it's not as if he hasn't had regulars before... even from this side. It's really just a matter of luck if they come to his restaurant at the same time on the same day. Besides, Chikusa isn't entirely certain that he can refuse this guy even if he wanted to. So he just nods. "...I'll serve you whatever you like. Although don't scare my other customers..." Judging by Hayato's reaction, he suspects that could possibly be an issue.   
  
There's another faint sound of amusement. "I understand. Although if we are making demands of one another-" Chikusa is pretty sure that it's just basic restaurant etiquette, but sure, they'll call it that. "-then I believe you should tell your waiter that he should know better than to ready his explosive potions towards me, or the next time I may not be so lenient. It is only because of your otherwise good service and proof of this place's legitimacy that I have not acted beforehand."   
  
That certainly answers where Hayato has been all this time. Recovering from the strangeness of the situation, Chikusa lets out a long sigh that takes all the energy out of him. If not for Jaeger's hands around his own, he'd go right back to slumping. "...Got it. I'll talk to him." He really doesn't want a fight in his restaurant.   
  
With all the horror stories that are no doubt abound on this side, if Hayato is any indication, Chikusa counts himself lucky that this simple statement is enough for Jaeger. The undead, apparently, are at least sensible enough. He nods, a faint movement of his chin, before he leans in just a little closer. Something about his cloak, the seaweed-in-water shift of his hair, that still overwhelming scent of rosemary - all of it combined makes it feel as though Chikusa is going to be swallowed up to never see the light of day again. "Good," Jaeger says simply. "I will come for you again, chef."   
  
Done, apparently, Jaeger abruptly releases his hands, turning on his heel and drifting out in that same ethereal manner as he had the first time. Now, with all of his attention on the door and much closer to the entrance, Chikusa has no choice but to be aware of the gust of freezing air that whips out as Jaeger opens the door just enough to slip through, and then he's gone.   
  
Which is good. Wherever his apparently sacred and holy land is, it's colder than hell, and Chikusa doesn't want his heating bill to go up trying to combat cold climate like that.   
  
He barely has time to let out a breath and turn around before Hayato is surging at him from around the corner of their small staff space, and indeed there are some thin but brilliantly colored vials held inbetween the fingers of one hand. If he barely has time to breathe, then Chikusa definitely doesn't have the time to get a word in before Hayato is right in his face and demanding, "What the hell was all that about!?"  
  
Blinking, Chikusa looks down to his own hand. There is a simple coin, the exact amount that would pay off the price of a pizza, or at least pizza according to this place's conversion rates. If there's anything strange about it, it's that the detailing on it is a little different then what he's come to expect. Well, that's nothing to be inherently suspicious about. Money changes. And if his latest customer is really as old as he claims he was... "I took care of the customer. As we do in the restaurant business." Still idly curious, he holds the coin up to the light and turns it around inbetween his fingers. "He said his name was Jaeger."   
  
Through panicked rage, Hayato's face has been flushed, no doubt in preparation for a fight just like Jaeger figured he would be. Yet when he hears that name, all the blood goes rushing out of his face, and his skin is left shockingly pale. " _That_ guy? That was Jaeger?"   
  
So he's well known. Chikusa keeps that in mind, even as he starts to turn away from Hayato towards what's left of his dinner. "Mm. Apparently." Yet he doesn't even get to sit down, or try, before Hayato's fingers are around his arm and jerking him around again. Ugh. He just wants to eat. He doesn't care about drama.   
  
In this regard, _apparently_ , him and Hayato are very different, because his server hisses at him, "How can you be so relaxed about the head of the Vindice, the most powerful creep this side of anything, just having stepped into your restaurant!?"

Part of the answer is simple ignorance. The other part of the answer is apathy, and it's that Chikusa says out loud as he tilts his head to the side. "He was a paying customer. Apparently this is professionalism... or so I've been told." He can't really say for sure. He used to work in a couple of restaurants, yes, but mostly anything about customer service, about lying to people's faces, are things he's learned from Hakkai. If there's one thing he hasn't learned, it's the art of smiling in the face of childish screaming or even outright danger... but Chikusa thinks he might vaguely have a step in the direction with how he doesn't really react most of the time. Hakkai seems pleased at his ability to keep a cool head, at least, even if sometimes his temper leaves something to be desired.... but it's been a long while since he's gotten annoyed and lashed out.   
  
Hayato gives him a dead eyed stare for a second, eyebrow twitching, before he takes a deep breath as though willing himself to be a calmer existence. In Hayato's case, it never seems to work. "You can't just _do_ that," he hisses at Chikusa, fingers jerking where they're still digging into Chikusa's arms. "That doesn't make any sense!"   
  
Puffing out a long slow breath, Chikusa reaches up to steady his glasses again. Whenever Hayato is involved, whether their first meeting or an attempt to teach him cooking in the back, his glasses always seem to go everywhere. "Well, regardless on if it makes sense or not.... I did it." That, ultimately, is the thing that matters the most. Hypotheticals aren't going to get him anywhere, in his opinion, because what's done has already been done. The future is a little more worrying, sure... but Chikusa is dealing with that as well as he can for someone in his position. While Hayato struggles to deal with this change to the reality he was, until now, pretty sure existed as it should, Chikusa lets his gaze drift downwards. The vials are still held carefully and expertly in Hayato's fingers. "...You know... for someone yelling at me about common sense... Why were you the one who was going to try and pick a fight with him...?"  
  
Hayato blinks again before he finally remembers to let go of Chikusa so that he can step back with a sharp 'tch'. "Since when are you familiar with the different potion effects?" he asks, although he doesn't deny that's what he was going to do.   
  
"He said that you were and wanted you to knock it off for when he next visits."   
  
That, at long last, finally has Hayato stop and sink down onto the floor, holding his head in one hand. This seems like an excellent opportunity to finally return to dinner, so Chikusa takes it, returning to his own chair. He lets Hayato take the moment he apparently needs to absorb this simple fact. "He said he wanted to _come back_!?" he finally forces out, looking like he's waiting for Chikusa to say _Sike!_ any second now. "And you let him!?"   
  
Chikusa just shrugs, picking up a slice of his pizza. "You didn't answer my question," he points out quietly, since it seems to be fairly relevant, honestly. "You're yelling at me... a _lot_... about how I keep not turning him away... but weren't you going to do something worse by picking a fight with him? I don't think you could have gotten him away from the door... if you were trying to escape..."   
  
Perhaps from all the adrenaline that had to course through him at this turn of events, Hayato's face is sort of pink, behind the glower he's sending Chikusa's way. "Tch. Don't think of me as someone that cowardly. Do you think I was just going to let someone do what he pleased with the restaurant, or the guy who's paying me? I was going to just do something flashy to blind him, and then get us out of here." Shaking his head wildly, he holds up the three different vials he's holding in one hand. "Alright, we're going to do an impromptu alchemy lesson right here and now, so that you know the next time where I'm trying to do, got it? That way we'll actually be prepared for the next time some absolute weirdo comes through and you have something better to do than just nod your head like some sort of sleepwalker."   
  
It's not how Chikusa was expecting his night to end, but it's one that, if he's honest, he accepts gladly. Back in middle school, he was an avid reader of chemistry texts, things on medicine and poisons and all manner of similar things. Alchemy is a lot different in some ways, but very similar in others, and he can't deny that he eats up everything that Hayato tells him just as much as he eats his actual dinner. As it turns out, one of the potions that Hayato had on hand - literally - was meant to act as an explosion that could definitely be viewed as an assault... but the other one was meant to blind at least two senses, while the last would give off an hallucinogenic effect.   
  
All in all, it's a surpisingly not-bad night, and Chikusa finds himself almost... satisfied by the time Hayato leaves, after reading him practically an entire riot act on how he shouldn't let absolute weirdos into the restaurant while Hayato isn't there, in a way that's almost vaguely like concern. It's... odd. But not bad. Chikusa keeps that feeling in mind as he goes to fetch some tiramisu from the fridge, knowing it's exactly what Mukuro Rokudo will want when he appears.

* * *

He's still in the middle of tidying up for the afternoon other world rush when Mukuro Rokudo appears, for once, without a single bit of drama or fanfare. One minute, Chikusa is setting the menus up in their little cubby hole at the counter, and the next he literally has a god right in his face, in the sparse amount of space that exists between himself and the counter. Chikusa tries to jolt back, eyes wide, but Mukuro Rokudo's arms are winding around his waist and back before he can get so much as an inch.   
  
"My dear Chikusa," the god purrs, leaning right into his space. "So _diligent_ as always." It sounds like the same kind of teasing and mocking that Mukuro Rokudo normally indulges in, save for some key little differences. With the way that they're so close, however, it doesn't escape Chikusa that something is different even besides such an abrupt entrance. Well, it's not as if Mukuro Rokudo's entrances are anything but abrupt...

There's no point in fighting a god when he's wrapped around the middle like an anaconda, so Chikusa doesn't bother, instead blinking slowly down at him. "...What happened."

"Straight to the point as usual, but I like that about you," Mukuro murmurs before he straightens up to rest his hands on Chikusa's shoulders. "I have a simple request that you need to follow as soon as I finish speaking, Kakimoto Chikusa. For just today, I want you to not open up your restaurant to my side of things, alright? Stop what you're doing, lock the door, and-"

Mukuro Rokudo stops speaking. This is, however, less something he does on purpose, and more because he simply... _disappears_. This isn't often a strange sight, Chikusa has to admit. After all, the god often makes a production of how much power he has, and how he can appear anywhere in any way that he likes. Yet that's the sort of thing that has... build up. And even this is different to when he'd suddenly appears. When that had happened, it had been faster than a blink - nothing and then existence.   
  
This is like watching morning mist dissipate, gone in one hard breath.   
  
Chikusa is still in the middle of just _processing_ it all when there's a polite little knock at the door that, on most average days now, opens up to the other world. On most average days, the first person who comes to him from that side is Hayato. Hayato doesn't knock. Hayato smacks his fist against the door once as a heads up that he's coming in, and then kicks the door the rest of the way open while swaggering in as though he's the owner instead of the jackass who picks up dirty dishes.   
  
It can be tricky having a weapon in Japan, Chikusa has come to find, with the gun laws being particularly strict. If he really, really wanted to, Chikusa knows he could get one, whether through legal channels or, occasionally, more reliable _il_ legal ones... but he always found it to be too much of a bother, and too much of a dead giveaway for what he wants to do. Instead, what he reaches for inside of his pocket is a simpler and plainer kind of switchblade. Easy to hide in the palm of his hand, unassuming, good for all sorts of excuses, especially now that he's a chef who owns his own restaurant. "Come in," he says, making sure to actually raise his voice so that he's heard on the other side of the door. He makes sure to keep his blade carefully hidden, not too obvious. "Although we're just opening..."   
  
"Then I'm sorry for intruding so early on," says a soft but sturdy voice, the kind that's gentle in the face of innumerable amounts of bullshit. It matches its owner perfectly: a woman in her middle ages with a pair of deep blue eyes, a bob of short hair not unlike Chikusa's own, and even a marking on her left cheek in the same place as a tattoo that's on Chikusa's. Although hers seems a bit more... acceptable, in the shape of a soft orange flower sort of thing. More hippie, less teenage hooligan. Chikusa feels he would be more comfortable if it were, honestly. Yet everything about her soft appearance only serves to put him more on edge, although he keeps that tucked away behind his impassive facade. All she does is smile at him. "May I sit anywhere I like, then?"   
  
It's funny. He'd been able to accept an actual mummy into his restaurant no problem, but he's a lot more wary of this perfectly innocuous woman. Chikusa wonders if Hayato would make fun of him for this reaction, or if he'd have the same train of thought. Still, all he can do in the end is the same thing that he did for Jaeger, and he gives a slight nod of his head towards the rest of the restaurant at large. "Yeah. Anywhere you want."   
  
There continues to be nothing particularly special about the woman as she makes her way over to one of the tables - nowhere in particular, nowhere special, just one table out of many in the dining space. Her long white dress flutters behind her, light as a clear sky, and she settles herself gingerly on the chair as though she's particularly fragile. In the back of his head, unbidden, Chikusa thinks it reminds him just a little of a woman expecting a child. Or maybe one who's already had one?   
  
Shaking his head, Chikusa turns away from her. That doesn't really have anything to do with anything, he figures. Instead, he reaches out for one of the menus he's just placed, speaking as he does so. "You arrived before my server did.... I'm only the chef." and the owner, but he doesn't really want to say more than he really needs to. "So it'll just be me for a moment..." Yet he trails off as he turns back to face her, blinking a couple of times.   
  
The woman who is in the chair is not the woman who first stepped in. Oh, a great many aspects of her are the same: how pitch black her hair is, those same laughing and blue eyes, the mark along her cheek, probably even her build although Chikusa couldn't accurately say anything on that. But her hair is much longer, now, falling in an artful cut around her face that is anything but straight and simple, and her age seems a little bit younger, although Chikusa couldn't make an accurate guess there either. Late teens? Early twenties? Somewhere in that area, he thinks.   
  
The hesitation, as it turns out, is exactly what he needs to give him an answer, and Chikusa lets out a slow annoyed sigh. If this weren't that other world, then he'd wonder if a prank were being pulled on him... And who knows. It still might be. But it's not the kind of prank one would typically know. Slowly, he begins to approach her again, no matter what she currently looks like. "Are you... going to keep doing this every time I turn my back. Or..."   
  
The woman currently sitting in his restaurant lets out a loud and rowdy laugh that doesn't fit the quieter and more patient demeanor of the woman from before. "Wow, what a muted reaction! I was hoping for a funny face, or at least a curse." Leaning forward with her elbows on the table, the woman holds out a hand for her menu. Chikusa hands it over wordlessly. "But it seems that you're getting quite used to strange situations like this one."   
  
"I think... I'm just getting tired of them," Chikusa answers honestly. "Besides... You entered too soon. At least, if you were going to banish Mukuro Rokudo like that... Or, I assume it's you who did that." There's no other person he can blame, after all.

Her smile is warm and bright as she looks him over, and he feels as though she's seeing more than just his outfit and appearance. It's a strange feeling, one he doesn't know how to deal with. Even Mukuor Rokudo, even Jaeger, neither of them have ever made him feel like this before. "Yeah, that was me... and you do have a good point. But we figured the jig would be up one way or another, and we were too interested to really plan out some sort of long prank." Setting the menu down in front of her, she offers her hand to him. "I'm Aria. Luce was you spoke to before. In a little while, you'll get to meet Yuni, too. Well..." She chuckles, soft and low. Now that he has an understanding, roughly, of just what's going on, he can enjoy it for the warm sound that it is. "I'm giving you all these names... but we're sort of the same person even as we're not." She smiles. 

Chikusa takes a moment to see if he can figure that out or match it to anything he's familiar with in his world, regardless on if he believes it or not. What he believes is very clearly not something that has mattered ever since he first met Mukuro Rokudo, after all. He's willing to be open. "So," he says slowly, syllables going at the rate of a sloth in his mouth, "something sort of like Hinduism." 

When he says it, he has no idea if the concept is going to make sense to Aria or not. Yet she just nods, seeming satisfied with his connection. "Not too far off, honestly. You're quick." Another chuckle. It feels like warm water trickling down his spine. "Well, that would explain why you've ended up so popular, or, at the very least, why Mukuro has such a fondness for you."

A part of him wants to ask just exactly what she's the god of, and how that intersects with Mukuro Rokudo, exactly. The rest of him decides he really doesn't need to bring more attention down onto his head than he already has, and he's apparently getting a lot more than he ever really bargained for when he first agreed to Mukuor Rokudo's terms. Instead, he decides to prepare himself for what he's starting to suspect may be the inevitable. "Has he been boasting about me to other people on the divine scale of things on this side...?"

Aria shakes her head, although she's still grinning. "Not exactly. Let's just say he has a connection to someone who hates him. When he used his powers to make the connection between your restaurant and the universe we are a part of, well, he could only keep that hidden for so long, and 'so long' turns out to be 'not very long at all' in the case of the person who hates him. Mammon honestly wanted to wreck this place, or cut off the connection entirely... But I thought it might be worth it to see just how good things are. It would be kind of a waste to just get rid of all this effort, right?"   
  
"I mean... I'd appreciate it," Chikusa says with a shrug, while digging through his memories of Hayato's babbling for any recognition of those names. Nothing comes up, unfortunately. There seems to be a trend, amongst the gods of this side, for their names to rarely, if ever, be used. Every god that has ever left Hayato's lips has been referred to with a title, with something like _God of Ember and Wildfire_. _Aria_ and _Mammon_ \- those are the kinds of things he hasn't heard in relation to the divine, at least not when he's talked to Hayato.   
  
Maybe it's a religious thing, like how the Furies were called the Kindly Ones to curry favor with them and not bring down their wrath. In that case, referring to something holy and powerful so casually probably would be a huge problem. Well, or so he theorizes, which is all he can do unless he wants to ask Aria outright.   
  
He does not want to ask Aria outright.   
  
There are more important things to focus on or, if not _more_ important, of equal important, and probably likely to get him an easier answer. "Does this mean... I'm going to have to deal with a lot of gods coming here... and maybe causing trouble?" he asks, exhausted already at the very prospect and not really trying to hide it.   
  
He's expecting Aria to answer him but, right as he blinks, a younger voice, more adolescent, replies to him instead, and there's what looks like a 14 year old Luce sitting there when his blink finishes. "I don't _believe_ so," Yuni says, slow like Chikusa is but a little more thoughtful instead of just careful or tired. "Mukuro is acting like he should, for a god of his type... So he's rather possessive of this place. He won't let anything happen to it, and I believe other gods and the like would understand that. Besides... you made a contract with him, didn't you?"   
  
So be writing down everything and being detailed... That really did work out for him, didn't it? Chikusa is a little impressed and, if he's really honest, more than a little grateful. He's more than aware of his role here, and it's that of a mere human chef with nothing extraordinary to him.   
  
Yuni continues to talk to him, apologetic. "That said, while I don't think anyone would start a fight, or try to get rid of your restaurant, you still may get some curious people who want to see just what's so special about this place, or you... or just to bother Mukuro, since they know he wants to keep you and your cooking all to himself. They may even simply sense his presence and how it's so thick here, and investigate on that basis alone. Well, if they bother you, just call out for him, because he's connected to you now."

On one hand, he now apparently has a handy guard god that will chase off anything that gives him trouble, and this means he can definitely conduct business with things like ruffians and mummies with no need to worry if he'll die a probably undeserved death. On the other hand, it sure would have been nice to know about this ahead of time, without having to worry about Mukuro potentially lying to him... although he supposes that there's no need to do something like that. Then again, maybe the god really would have, just to jerk Chikusa around. He seems like the type.

"Noted," is what he says aloud, before he tilts his head to the menu. "At ay rate... Did you actually come here to eat... or not?" Because if not, then he can at least get back to cleaning, assuming he's not being told he's the chosen one, or something equally trite that he didn't ask for. 

On the bright side, Yuni perks up with a smile that makes bubbles pop pleasantly in the pit of his stomach, and agreeably picks up the menu. "Oh, I did! There's no point in coming to a restaurant if it's not to eat, is there?" She laughs softly, her eyelashes brushing along her cheek. "what sort of things does Mukuro eat when he comes here?" 

Chikusa sighs, leaning back on his heels. "...Sweets. Every time. At least, that's how it's been so far. He bossed me around when I was remaking the menu to this place... so I can only assume that he has an interest in actual meal foods as well." He just has no idea when Mukuro Rokkudo ever plans to actually eat any of them. It's almost like dealing with a little kid, although Chikusa is sure that the god would throw a fit if he heard that statement.

Soon enough, it's arranged neatly on a plate, steam wafting off of them and carrying that lovely scent along with it. A small bowl of sauce completes the picture, and the tea finishes just in time as well. When he steps outside, this time it's Luce again who's come back, her fingers folded over one another as she looks around the restaurant from her seat. "This is a cozy place, isn't it?" she asks once Chikusa steps into the dining area with her meal, smiling at him. "I couldn't tell exactly what it was like before I stepped inside of it... That's unusual for me. But then, I suppose it only makes sense. This is a place between two entirely different universes. Someone like me wouldn't be so easily connected to this, and so I would have no idea about it."   
  
Alright, that really decides something for him. "I know what you're trying to do," he informs her bluntly as he sets the plate down in front of her along with her tea. When he looks up at her again, it's Aria. "And I'm not interested."   
  
This is partially something of a lie. He's definitely interested in what exactly she means by that, and how it was that Mukuro could reach out to him and create this space, but it's something apparently foreign to this multi-faced woman. As much as he doesn't want to get involved in all the drama of this world, its gods and politics and factions that he know exist out there, since it would just be a clusterfuck from the first second, he still can't help his curiosity.   
  
But then, that's also why it's only partially a lie. He may be interested in the differences between two similar entities, but he's not interested in all of _that_. He's not aiming to become the main character of some grand fantasy novel. He has a restaurant and regular customers. That's all Chikusa cares about.   
  
Since it's Aria, she just grins even more, and that doesn't feel particularly surprising with the impression that she's given off in the short amount of time Chikusa has known her. "You know, it's a little rude to lie to even an average person," she informs him, taking up her tea and breathing in the pleasant scent of it. "Definitely rude when you're trying to lie to someone like me."   
  
Figuring that he's not likely to get any other customers with her around, Chikusa hooks his foot around the leg of another chair so that he can slump down into it. "It's only half a lie, at most..." Sighing, he shifts his leg onto the other side of the chair, and crosses his arms over the back. He hasn't really sat like this since high school, which he knows for a fact didn't help people's impression of him as a delinquent. Well, they weren't wrong on that either. "All I really want to know is that there better not have been anything special or prophetic about me, and that's why he was able to make a connection between two universes..."   
  
Aria bursts out laughing; at some point it shifts to something lighter and more bell-like when he blinks. Luce's eyes are positively glittering as she looks at him, in a way he doesn't think he's ever been looked at before. It's almost like he's charming, or funny, or interesting - all things Chikusa can't remember ever really fulfilling the definition of. All his life, he's tried his best to be a part of the background, not in the spotlight. "If it really makes you feel better," Luce says, "then it doesn't have anything to do with you in particular. Mukuro is simply... in a position best suited to this sort of thing, really. While I wouldn't say it's his specific domain, he certainly has a connection to things where barriers between are... particularly thin."   
  
Chikusa makes a small noise of acknowledgment. Thin barriers, is that it? Somehow, he doubts she's talking about things like cheap apartment walls, or certain tee shirts where the high price is in direct correlation with how little actual thread they can use. "So basically he was just lucky?"  
  
"Basically," Luce agrees, delicately setting down the tea so that she can pick up one of the heavy dumplings inbetween her delicate fingers. "He was able to find a place where the things that kept our universes apart by happy circumstance, and at exactly the right time that someone like yourself was settling on the other side. I'm not entirely sure it would have worked out so well for him, or anyone like him like Mammon, if it had been anyone but you." She looks up with another smile at him, her eyes reminding him of the Mediterranean stretching out in a way that felt endless from the simple beaches in Italy. "So think of it less like prophecy, and more when someone a rare ingredient at the store alongside one of the few chefs in the world talented enough to cook with it."   
  
That does make him feel better, honestly. Strange circumstances and luck? He can deal with those. As long as it's not something far bigger than that. So he eases up slightly in his seat, and instead just watches as Luce finally takes a bite of her dumpling. As the dough is gently torn through by teeth, more of that warm scent breaks free, quietly filling up the air around them. Even as she chews, Luce sinks back against her seat with her eyes drifting shut in contentment.   
  
"Oh... It's lovely. The meat really is of a sweeter kind than it is savory... The way the juice bursts out onto the tongue is wonderful." Opening her eyes, she smiles again at him. "Especially since it stays right in the mouth, with its dough shell keeping everything else firmly trapped inside with absolutely no leaking. You've made it with great care, haven't you? I can taste a lot of affection in this."   
  
"I'm pretty sure that's not how cooking works..." Besides, he wasn't thinking of anything in particular when he made those dumplings. Chikusa knows that for a fact. He was just making a lot of them because he always has to make a lot of dumplings for his restaurant, just as a simple fact. What is there to be affectionate about?   
  
Well. Maybe there's a little bit of something. Chinese food like this happens to be food that he's been making for years now... guided by Hakkai's patient hand as he learned just the right way to cut out dough, where to wet it along the edges so that it would stick together, how much of a filling was too much. It had been a good outlet for all of his issues, his need to focus on something and use his hands and measure it all out. Hakkai had liked it too, Chikusa thinks. His adoptive father has always been the domestic sort, even for all of his dubious and incredibly specific advice on some matters that had lead Chikusa feeling as though he could approach him for anything, including how to get rid of a body. Chikusa, when he was younger, had never thought he would follow in those footsteps... and he still might not be, because a restaurant is an entirely different thing from being a homebody.   
  
But he still can't deny... that on some level, maybe even when he's just making food because food needs to be made, whether for himself to keep living or for the business to make a profit, he's still thinking of those days as a kid, working along side Hakkai in the kitchen with his shoulders slumped as usual and his hands in constant motion. Hm. He never thought of it like that.

Luce just smiles at him, her eyes sparkling like she knows exactly what's going through his head as he wanders through his own memories and the things that have shaped his life. "Well, it's how your cooking works," she says, a smile lingering on her face even when she takes a bite to eat. Chikusa always thought that was a hard thing to do, but apparently he's either bad at smiling or she's just extremely good at it.   
  
Maybe he has bigger issues to worry about, even though his mind keeps drifting towards how Luce smiles. "Is your presence here... going to be a problem when I open properly? My employee should be arriving pretty soon, honestly..." In fact, with how Hayato is, Chikusa was expecting him to show up right in the middle of Chikusa cooking the dumplings, and possibly insult the divine entity sitting right there in the dining area without realizing it. The second Chikusa thinks of it, however, is the second that he realizes something, and he lets out a slow and annoyed sigh. "Unless you did something.... to keep people from walking in on here..."   
  
There could be a totally mundane explanation, of course. It _is_ Hayato, the man who got kicked out of the temple he was devoted to and is probably the enemy of no small number of gangs in the city he lives in. Chikusa isn't even entirely sure he knows how the guy is still living with that many enemies; Hayato had just waved it off with how he'd be fine when Chikusa has inquired about the issue one day. There's no doubt a substantial list of perfectly mundane reasons that would have his employee coming in late, all of it Hayato's own fault.   
  
But this isn't a mundane situation to begin with, so a mundane problem doesn't seem likely, and he's proven right when he blinks to Yuni nodding her head. "Even though we were interested in you, we didn't want to cause you too much trouble." She smiles, tilting her head to the side sweetly. Chikusa doesn't think he's ever thought of someone as "sweet" before. "We'd like to visit you again some time, after all! It wouldn't do to insult the chef and owner if we want to do that."   
  
Typical. Well, he guesses he knew that he'd always have some form of pain in his ass eventually after Mukuro Rokudo first approached him and he agreed to all of this. One doesn't make a deal with a god and then go on to live a perfect normal, plain, uneventful life. He can't think of a single mythological tale in any religion that ends like that. Gods are trouble. Period.   
  
That doesn't mean he has to agree with this right away, and he eyes Yuni for a moment. She's definitely the most innocent looking one, he thinks, and that makes him suspicious. "When I made that contract with Mukuro Rokudo," he says after a second, "I made it specifically to avoid getting dragged into any nonsense. Can I do the same thing with you...?"   
  
Yuni is already shaking her head before he even finishes, and Aria is there on his next blink with a dumpling in her hand and an elbow on the table. "Nope," she says simply, a lazy and relaxed grin on her lips. "We're a little different from Mukuro. Besides, I don't think you'd want to get wrapped up in even more things like that, would you?" Chikusa doesn't think he makes too much of a noticeable expression, if he emotes at all, but it's still enough to make Aria grin before she keeps going. "Still, I will promise you this: I won't start or bring any trouble when I visit."   
  
Words don't really amount to much; Chikusa knows this for a fact. When released into the air, they're ethereal things, fleeting, temporary. People think they remember the words as they're spoken, but that's not true. The second the only thing which keeps them is the mind which heard them, they're untrustworthy on all angles. On one side, there's the person who'd heard it, because the mind is untrustworthy, and prone to twisting memories one way or another. When it comes to oaths and promises, that's important. Then you have trying to tell other people the promise was made in the first place... and how can you do that when the only proof you have is your _own_ word? It's a mess of a system, in Chikusa's opinion.   
  
Still, if he can't get a written statement, which is only vaguely better on a human scale and may possibly be actually useless when it comes to dealing with the actual divine, he supposes he has no choice but to accept a spoken promise like this. While it may not mean anything, and he can't trust it or some random stranger, well, maybe it will work as a statement of intent.   
  
Besides. _Apparently_ he has a god he can just call on if things begin to turn bad, at least here in the restaurant, and while it's connected to this other world. That will have to work for his swiss army knife until he's a little more certain of some things.   
  
So Chikusa simply responds with, "If you say so." He's pretty sure that's all he really can do at this point. Well, agree, and talk. So even though he's never actually been a fan of the latter nine times out of ten, he continues, shifting into a marginally more comfortable spot in his seat. "At any rate... Since you're here... You may as well be useful." It's that kind of talk which has often made people annoyed at him; Aria just chuckles at the phrasing. "Since you and Mukuro Rokudo are alike, you might be able to answer... but a little while ago... A customer said this place was thick with desire. Is that because of what this place is... or because of what Mukuro Rokudo did?"   
  
"It would be the latter," Luce tells him, her fingers curled around the comforting smoothness of the teacup. "Since you aren't native to this universe, it may be a little difficult to understand it from your end of things... But every living thing in this side, and even things that can't be considered as 'alive', are connected to one of seven... essences." She gives a thoughtful nod to herself, as if deciding that's absolutely the term she wants to go with. "Think of it a little bit like how different people on your side have things like zodiac signs. Only, from what I understand of your universe, zodiac signs don't influence what kind of magic you're able to use." She laughs just a little bit.   
  
He has so many questions, but Chikusa sticks to the one he started with. "So... those essences are included in gods?"  
  
Aria snaps her fingers with a wide grin to indicate it's the right answer, and Yuni is there in the next flutter of his blink to beam at him. "That's right. The base aspects of those essences can honestly cover a great deal... which explains why Mukuro's domains are also similarly vast. By human definitions, the essence which most makes him up would be known as 'desire'. And since humans are always wanting a great many things... Well. You see how it is."

And he really does, honestly. It explains everything from Mukuro's domain to his apparently gluttonous nature... literally gluttonous instead of just wanting a lot. Chikusa has made more than enough sundaes to know that much. Maybe that should be his godly title, instead of the spiel he'd listened off to Chikusa on their first meeting. Well, he guesses that much doesn't ultimately matter. Chikusa just pushes himself up onto his feet at last with a sigh, knowing that he can't put off the inevitable. "Well... Anyway. So long as you stick to what you just said... It's going to be really annoying otherwise." And his life is already kind of annoying as it is. Oh well. "At any rate... Will things go back to normal once you're done?"   
  
Luce's smile seems like it could be something... not annoying. "That's right. No one will even have realized anything strange has happened. Well, anything more strange than what's become the natural existence of this restaurant to start with."   
  
That answers everything he needed to know. "Then I'm going back to cleaning.... The restaurant can't do that on its own, unfortunately." It would make his life at least a little easier, since apparently the rest of the universe - both of them, actually - won't oblige him in that regard. So leaving whoever is sitting at his table presently, Chikusa walks off to take care of preparing the restaurant for its second shift of the day, with its customers from another world.   
  
He's managed to get everything all tidied up and ready by the time she finally finishes, with everything where it should be - menus at the ready, dirty dish bin cleared out waiting for a rush, food warm and ready in the kitchen to be put to good use in whatever recipe the customer asks for. On her feet, Yuni looks over it all with some manner of curiosity, but something else, mainly. It's almost like approval, or satisfaction, or a weird kind of pleasure. Chikusa can't really nail down what the emotion is. "You take such good care of this place."   
  
"With the money I put into it, I ought to..." It's not cheap, to start up one's own business. It involves a lot of saving money, a lot of figuring out if he should take loans and what ones wouldn't bite him in the ass if so. And that's just buying the space itself. There's the furniture, advertising, getting the proper equipment, all the food for what will hopefully be a successful opening... Of course he's going to take good care of the place.   
  
Yet Yuni's smile is very much like the smile Luce gave him not that long ago, like she knows more than Chikusa himself is saying, and that she's endeared by it. "Of course," she says, voice just teasing enough to not be too much of an annoyance while still making her opinion more than known. She stops right in front of him, where he's leaning against a table on the opposite side of the room. When he blinks again, he has to adjust his head slightly and look up a little more, although not too much. Luce may be an adult compared to the younger look of Yuni, although who the hell knows what that all means in reference to the divine, but she's still not taller than he is. "I left the payment on the table, but I'd like to leave a tip as well. Would that be alright?"   
  
Italy never did tips. Neither does Japan, Chikusa has come to learn, and Hakkai has told him that it's an incredibly rare thing in China as well, although there's maybe one occasion that might warrant it. "Although," Hakkai had said, glancing over him with his one good eye and a faint smile, "I suppose I don't really have cause to imagine you stepping foot into a high class restaurant for dinner. Still, just in case it ever happens, it's good to know."   
  
In contrast, he knows nothing about the etiquette for another world that involves the gods apparently interacting with regular humans and the ability to use magic, or potions. Has Hayato ever been tipped? He doesn't think so, but, also, it's Hayato. That doesn't really give him a solid answer. Well, in this case, he supposes it can be just a one time thing, and so he shrugs. "This time, if you want." He's not hurting for money although he wouldn't deny more of it.  
  
Yuni doesn't give him money. She gives him her fingertips, balanced carefully along the sharp curve of his jaw, just the lightest touch that he nonetheless follows as he leans down ever so slightly, and that's when she gives him a kiss, too. It's on the other side of his face, the exact same position but reversed to where her fingers are. It's such a soft action, almost nonconsequential, nonexistant, that it shouldn't mean anything. And yet with how close she is, his lungs feel filled to the brim with the smell of - lilies, he thinks. Not the overwhelming ones, either, but those with that soft smell, able to fill a room, fill his throat, with something comforting.   
  
It's in strict contrast to Aria, her scent, her kiss, and Chikusa's knees almost buckle underneath the firm clap of her hand onto his shoulder. Her kiss is a little higher up, set into a brilliant crescent moon curve because of her smile, and he thinks he might feel it forever along his cheek, where it sinks in comfortably. A long time ago, he learned that poppies don't really have a smell, and yet their image pops into his mind anyway with Aria's closeness. Not the flower, he realizes in that split second, but the seeds - smoky, bittersweet, something that makes his heart twist.   
  
When Luce kisses him, the last of this trinity existence, the scent settles, and her lips are gentle right along the corner of his mouth. Her hand rests over his heart, gentle and comforting, as though it's somewhere that can be trusted, and yet shouldn't. Rose gardens are valued all over the world, and it's that which he breathes in, feeling strangely at home. When she pulls away, her hand still resting over his heart, her smile makes his chest feel as though it ought to implode. Chikuksa doesn't like it. "We'll be glad to see you again," she tells him. "So please stay safe until then, won't you?"   
  
"I don't think I really have a choice in the matter," he informs her plainly, as though his stomach isn't filled with butterflies from the cacophony of scents that have hit him in rapid succession, like the inside of his chest isn't filling with thorns. It's the strangest feeling, and yet he doesn't allow himself to be knocked off of his feet because of it. All he does, all he really can do, is meet those achingly blue eyes of hers head on. "But I'm taking care of my restaurant."   
  
She smiles, this trinity existence, and pats him on his arm as though she expects nothing less. When she leaves, it's exactly as she entered, walking out the door like she's just a perfectly average person. When she opens the door, Chikusa only watches it from the corner of his eyes, and can't entirely make out where exactly she's going. It's... hard to describe. Impossible, actually. The only clear thing would be the breath he inhales, and he's overwhelmed with the scent of green rot and flowers.   
  
Hayato enters in after her some three minutes afterwards - sharp knock, foot kicking open the wood, that casual thug swagger. Yet the habit finds a slight break when he stops to take in Chikusa, who's sunk back into an available chair with the dead eyed stare of someone who is quite firmly done with the day before it's had much of a chance to even start. "You look like shit," Hayato informs him kindly, with that grace he's so known for. "What happened?" But then his gaze finishes its cursory glance over the rest of the restaurant, and lands on the cleared off plate and empty teacup which are waiting on a table. "We had a customer _already_?"

So she didn't even have the care to make some sort of mundane accident. Chikusa isn't sure if that's on purpose, or if she just figured temporarily stopping time - what _probably_ happened - was easier. He makes the executive decision not to go too into it. Instead, he just says, "Special case." And then, struck by a sense of curiosity and figuring that Hayato of all people could probably give him a clue, he adds, "She was a strange person, with a tattoo on her cheek." 

"I don't think you of all people can make a comment about strange persons with tattoos on their cheeks," Hayato snorts, shrugging off his coat as he makes his way towards the back where the employee storage is. "What was so strange about it?" 

"It was like... an orange flower, but abstract... with a bit of blue right in the middle. Simple..." His attention is drawn to Hayato's sudden grimace. "What..."   
  
"Ugh, that kind of person is just asking for trouble..." Tossing his coat onto the wall hook without being even remotely near enough for that to happen reliably, Hayato straightens out the rest of his clothing. "We better not have Creation screwing over this restaurant - nah, this whole damn city - just because someone wanted to go playing dress up as Her." There's a certain lilt to his voice at that last word, a certain pronunciation that distinguishes not only from its average self but every other word that precedes it. "Well, maybe you were mistaken, or it's just distant enough not to cause offense."   
  
"Maybe," Chikusa says, because that's good enough a non-answer, he's pretty sure, while he comes to terms with the title Hayato has used, the titles he's familiar with and how they're used for each divine being. Spirits get verbs, maybe an adjective attached if they're particularly noteworthy in that aspect. Gods are always described with their domains attached, in one manner or another.   
  
The Arcobaleno, being the very fabric of the universe, simply _are_.   
  
Ugh. Pinching the bridge of his nose, knuckles bumping against his glasses frames, Chikusa finally pushes himself back up again. This would be just his luck. At least now he has a pretty solid idea on why he couldn't make a "contract" with Her, any of Her, like he could with Mukuro Rokudo. Well, it's too late to do anything about it now, and at least now he knows at all so that he can possibly confront Her on it for the next time. Maybe he'll be able to get even more answers then; certainly he's getting dragged more and more into this whole world whether he likes it or not.   
  
For now, all he can do is head back to the kitchen, and get back to work.

* * *

Save for his very first day opening his door to the other world, that first day where Hayato first deigned to become his waitstaff, Mukuro Rokudo doesn't often jump him the very second he closes up. Maybe it has something to do with their contract, where Chikusa managed to wrangle it out of him that he wouldn't interfere with the restaurant on its working hours. Chikusa is pretty sure that he didn't object to that one because of the additional clause that had been included, where he could do so if Chikusa explicitly asked him to. Which might be the 'help' portion of the contract that Luce mentioned, now that he thinks about it?   
  
Alternatively, while he did give into his gluttony by making all of this possible in the first place, Mukuro Rokudo _is_ still a god. Chikusa can't say he can relate to such an experience, but it probably means that the other has a lot of things to do that are on his plate, and views this as just a fun little diversion and excuse to indulge. That view would mean that there's no real reason for him to be on Chikusa's ass 24/7. Just, you know, reliably, every day.

Yet today is different. Today, he appears almost the second Chikusa has closed the door, not too unlike the sudden way he appeared that morning. his hands shoot out, bracketing either side of Chikusa and pinning him against the door. Instinctively, Chikusa jerks his elbow back in alarm, only to find his arm grabbed and his entire body spun around so that he's better held in place. Once he realizes just who the culprit is, Chikusa eases up a little... especially since it's clear that he's not going to win against an actual god anytime soon.   
  
Mukuro Rokudo hardly seems to notice. All he does is sweep his gaze over Chikusa's body, searching for something, and there's a strange shine to his eyes that makes it feel as though he's looking further than just Chikusa's mere physical body. When his eyes finally drift upwards to meet Chikusa's own stare, he still doesn't seem entirely satisfied. "So, did they not come?" he murmurs to himself under his breath. "But they had to have with how I was moved out of the way..."   
  
Chikusa is pretty sure that Mukuro Rokudo could just _ask_ him if any other divine entity arrived at his restaurant, but apparently he's just being used as a sounding board, an inanimate object for Mukuro Rokudo to covet. He gives the god a moment to come to this conclusion himself but, when he doesn't, Chikusa sighs and finally speaks up. "I thought Creation was always referred to as a 'her'... no matter what's going on with her appearance or personality..."   
  
He gets a blank blink for his trouble. " _Creation_?" Mukuro Rokudo echoes, fascinated. At least that's finally enough to have him let go of Chikusa, raising one curled hand to his chin thoughtfully. Once more, he looks over Chikusa. "Now, that is curious... although suppose there are far worse amongst those troublesome things."   
  
That's certainly an interesting way to describe a being who, last Chikusa checked, was above Mukuro Rokudo on the hierarchy fo the divine for this world. Then again, he seems like the kind of guy who would shamelessly flaunt his disregard for people above him. It's a pan of annoyance to Chikusa that he actually likes that kind of characteristic. He knows he always had problems with authority himself ever since he was a kid, but he'd rather not be reminded of it by a person with a face like this... Or maybe it's not his face, but his whole self.   
  
If he let Mukuro Rokudo know his feelings on this matter, however, Chikusa knows that he would never live it down. It's better to just keep silent on the whole affair. Instead, he simply asks, "So can any of the Arcobaleno do that to you? Make you go away without any effort at all?" Then again, maybe it did take Luce or Yuni or Aria some effort. It's not as though Chikusa asked her.   
  
But he knows it will annoy the god right there in front of him, and he's rewarded by Mukuro Rokudo's narrowed eyes and thin smile. "My dear Chikusa, since when did you get so _talkative_?" he asks.  
  
Chikusa just stares at him. "When it concerns me... and my restaurant. She said that you and I signed a contract... which will have you help me in case anything bad happens. But if something like that happens again... It seems like that part will be fairly useless to me. I was fine with just serving the average person on your side of things.. but this seems like I'm getting dragged into more and more. So I'd like to _know_ more in turn."   
  
None of it is even technically wrong, too, which both of them know. Mukuro Rokudo sulks at him for a brief moment before he regains his cool, or at least the cool he perceives himself to have. "It's merely how things are for the moment." Implying that he'll change things one day... Ugh. Chikusa hopes he doesn't get dragged into that. It sounds like a pain, and Mukuro Rokudo is just being vague for now. "Unfortunately, the Ardcobaleno as humans call them _are_ the makers of a great many things... myself included." He smirks. "But that doesn't mean much."   
  
He could really do for Mukuro Rokudo being anything but this outrageously arrogant. Chikua can never manage that sort of thing, so it always inevitably makes him feel exhausted when he sees it in someone else. Sighing, Chikusa tries to straighten himself up against the door. While he may be a god, in this form, Mukuro Rokudo is still shorter than him, and Chikusa doesn't want to be in such an uncomfortable position. "Who were you expecting to show up, anyway?" he asks, trying to remember which of the Arcobaleno that Hayato has brought up in conversation. Chaos was the one responsible for his favorite god, so he's always come up, but what about the others...   
  
Letting go of Chikusa, Mukuro Rokudo waves a hand through the air dismissively. "No one important," he says, which is a damn lie. "Besides, there's something much more curious on your person now that I know what I'm actually looking for..." Proving to still be as handsy as he ever is, he leans in close again, and begins to trail his fingers up from Chikusa's stomach to his chest, pausing right at his sternum before it flicks up to land along his jaw. "So, what did you think of Creation, my lovely Chikusa?"   
  
Beautiful. Overwhelming. Comforting. Suffocating. Being in Her presence made him feel as though he had lowered himself into the soft dirt of a flower garden, and began to plant seeds within his own flesh of his own volition. Chikusa can't stop thinking of roses. He thinks his skin might burn where Her lips touched, in all three places.   
  
"She was a lot," is what he eventually goes with for an answer. "Just like you all apparently are, and anything connected with you..."   
  
It's a truthful answer, although it's not a very detailed one, and that suits Chikusa just fine. The only unfortunate thing to it is that it doesn't seem to work, and Mukuro Rokudo chuckles a little more as he slides his fingers further up until his palm is soundly cradling Chikusa's cheek. "Things of a divince nature leave behind traces of themselves, you know," he murmurs. "Fingerprints, footprints - those things are nigh impossible to track when it comes to anything that resides in the realm of the spiritual. Yet it's far easier for us to keep track of where other's have been..."   
  
Only so long as they know where to look and for what, apparently, but Chikusa doesn't say that out loud. He just patiently waits out Mukuro Rokudo's palm along his skin. "Even if you didn't see it... I'd tell you if you asked anyway. It was bothersome..."   
  
That makes Mukuro Rokudo laugh again. "If you really want things to be less bothersome, then do you want my help?" he asks, leaning in so close again but now with an entirely different feeling than possessive panic. Instead, it's... It's the sort of thing Chikusa has only really seen happen to other people, whether in real life or on a television screen for entertainment. While he's still rather annoyed about Mukuro Rokudo's everything, he can't deny that this is... something he doesn't know how to deal with. So Chikusa goes still, blinking at the god, and earns another low laugh for his troubles. It goes down his spine, all the way. "I would gladly give it to you."

Even if he doesn't know how to deal with flirting, Chikusa is relieved to say that his ability to negotiate and be wary at an offer of free anything is still perfectly functional, even in a situation like this. He narrows his eyes just the tiniest fraction, not trusting the way Mukuro Rokudo smiles, or laughs, or thinks. "I think... that would depend a lot on just what your help would look like."   
  
People can say they'll help someone all they like, but the idea of 'help' varies from person to person. Sometimes, it's just a simple no-nonsense offer. Other times, it's one part of a very elaborate trap. Sometimes it's just something completely different from what the person receiving such help thought they would get. Chikusa has thus learned to be wary of such freely given offers, not unless he knows the details, and the intent.   
  
He's always felt that to be a wise course of action in his life, and, now, he feels especially validated when faced with someone like Mukuro Rokudo.   
  
The god in question tilts his head to the side, amused at Chikusa's suspicion and wariness. "It would simply be nothing more than a little mark, an aspect of myself left to linger on your person. Don't you realize that you've had some light traces already left on you?" His fingers draw upwards, teasing the curve of his jaw. "Here." Right along his cheek. "Here." Finally, those fingers linger at the corner of his mouth, pressing just in enough to tempt sliding them right past Chikusa's lips and into his mouth but not actually going through with it. "And here." Mukuro Rokudo's mismatched eyes are absolutely shimmering with amusement and... something else. Something a little darker. "Now what did you get up to while I wasn't there to watch over you...?"  
  
Chikusa has always been opposed to people saying that they need to "watch over" him for any reason. To date, so far the only person who's picked up on that and readjusted themselves accordingly has been Hakkai, who'd though it perfectly reasonable for someone of any age, and had been one of the first indications to Chikusa's child mind that this was one of the only adults worth his trust. It's not particularly surprising to see a god fall into that same trap. If mythology and religion of any sort has taught him, it's that gods are just as falliable as humans, despite what some religious authorities say.   
  
So before he even opens his mouth to answer, Chikusa knows that, deep down, he's already made his decision for the time being on if he should accept Mukuro Rokudo's help any further than he already has in connecting his restaurant to this other world. "I served a customer... and that's it. I guess this is what she meant by leaving a tip..." And he won't go any further into that particular matter. Quite frankly, it's none of Mukuro Rokudo's business if he got kisses on the face three times (or maybe just one; he can't tell) by the living personification of all of creation. "And I think... I'll keep your offer in mind. But... I'm not taking it for now."   
  
Mukuro Rokudo's thin smile is a dead giveaway that he's not really particularly pleased by this answer; it's probably only the addition of "for now" that keeps him from throwing any sort of fit or getting outright upset. "Well. I certainly can't force you to change your mind." Somehow, there feels like there's an obvious lie there. Chikusa shelves his question to ask Luce, or possibly even Jaeger. A cult that worships the end of the world has to have some sort of idea of how to hold back a pissy immature god, doesn't it? "For now, since you're clearly in a mood, my lovely Chikusa, I'll leave you be. I don't want to make my favorite chef fall into a bad mood." And with that, he vanishes.   
  
Or, at least, he appears to. Adjusting himself so that he's leaning more comfortably against the door with his arms crossed, Chikusa closes his eyes for a moment before he lazily decides to test something. "Ah... So I guess Mukuro Rokudo-sama doesn't want the mochi ice cream I made today... I guess I'll take it for myself..." Even with his eyes closed, he can tell there's a slight shift in the air, and he opens one eye.   
  
There, seated so neatly on the edge of one of the tables - fortunate that Chikusa hasn't had time to do one last clean down - is Mukuro Rokudo, looking absolutely casual and as if he didn't just try to vanish off in a huff. "I just recalled how our arrangement is meant to be," he says breezily, and definitely like he wasn't eavesdropping. "It wouldn't do if I left before you gave me tribute, my dear Chikusa."   
  
That certainly answers that. So the deceitful god _does_ eavesdrop on him when Chikusa used to think he had left. It's a good thing that Chikusa isn't actually the kind of person who talks aloud to himself, or do anything really of note in Platypus Place, or else he would be a great deal annoyed, he thinks. As it is, all he can muster up is a faint exasperation, even as he pushes himself away from the door obediently. "Of course, Mukuro Rokudo-sama... I'll get it to you right away."   
  
It's not like it's hard, either. He has tons of mochi ice cream prepared already, which is often the case with frozen foods like this. He makes sure to carefully scoop out a good variety of flavors for the god, too, although he knows that the man has a tendency towards chocolate more than any of them. Well, you never know. Best to be careful when it comes to the divine.   
  
As he arranges the small colorful balls in a little bowl, Chikusa allows his mind to drift. He has a lot of more serious things he's going to have to start looking into, which he supposes he'd always known from the start but had still really not wanted to do in the first place, so he'd hoped that things wouldn't go the way that they clearly are. Now that there's not really a doubt, well... Now he's really going to have to look into the gods and other divine entities of this place, see what his options are. If Mukuro Rokudo has already established a route here, can Chikusa just switch his contract to a different god, or is it dependent wholly on this particular god's powers? What if it's a god in a similar 'essence' to him? What kind of divine nuisances can he expect in the future? There's a lot to do, and he's not looking forward to any of it.   
  
Well, all of that is dependent on things outside of him. For now, Chikusa thinks of the smaller things. Things like his shoulder brushing against Hayato's as the two of them work in the kitchen together on the particularly slow days when he can afford it. Like the soft texture of Jaeger's bandages where they'd brushed against his hands. Luce's laughing eyes and soft smile. However tempting and dangerous Mukuro Rokudo may be, however easier it would be to simply cut off the contract and have a normal restaurant in normal Japan...   
  
Chikusa has found that he rather likes all of this, as it's become.

* * *

The man walking into his restaurant on a finely busy day looks exactly like a Saior Moon villain, makeup, smirk, hair, and all. It's kind of distracting, honestly, which is a problem considering that there are so many people that even Chikusa needs to get involved in working inbetween his cooking. "We'll get to you in a minute," Chikuas quietly informs the man with brilliant makeup along his eyes, trying not to get lost in his staring. Fortunately, that's easy to do when he has a bin full of dirty dishes in his arms, demanding to be quickly cleaned so that he has more plates to use. He's not completely out yet, but it's not good to take too long in ignoring this sort of thing. 

All the man does is smile, in that kind of way that very distinctly reminds Chikusa of Mukuro Rokudo. It's a perfectly at ease sort of calmness, a feeling that he's above everything and it'll all work itself out in his favor. Yet somehow it's not quite so... arrogant. Flamboyant, despite the brilliant teal of his long wavy hair and contrasting color of his eyeshadow. "Oh, please don't trouble yourself by any means. I can be patient. Just show me to wherever seat you can, when you can."

Well, if he insists. Chikusa has to admit that it's something that works out in his favor, so why should he complain. "Thank you for your patience, we will work as quickly as possible." And true enough, he quickly takes the bin back to the kitchen area, where Hayato is frantically cleaning things as quickly as he possibly can while some things slowly cook in preparation for any other customers rather than the ones already eating their meals in his dining room. As soon as he dumps the dishes with Hayato, he's right back out again, filling it up even more as other customers leave. At some point, he's even able to wipe down a table, and usher in their latest guest to a seat. 

All the rush completely shuts down his brain and, before he knows it, the restaurant is mostly empty, save for a couple in one corner who are still enjoying a sundae together in quiet delight, and his latest guest. Catching his breath, Chikusa actually looks over the customer properly this time, instead of just immediately assessing if he were a threat or not, along with his basic appearance.   
  
He's... actually gorgeous, Chikusa realizes, blinking a couple of times as he takes in the man. It's not often a thought he has in regards to men, even though Chikusa is attracted to them. Hell, he can tell men who are _handsome_ , like Hayato technically is, or worryingly beautiful, in the way that Mukuro Rokudo is. But gorgeous? That's... a rather intense description to use, in Chikusa's opinion, and he is not an intense person.   
  
But there's no denying it. The smooth bridge of his nose, that delicately crafted brow, full lips, and glittering eyes underneath vivid colors... Chikusa forces his attention away from the man's physical features to take in the rest of him. The clothing is interesting to note, he has to admit, because the majority of the man's outfit consists of something that seems like a mixture between a robe and a coat. It's incredibly black, blacker than most fabric Chikusa thought could manage, but the most interesting thing would be the delicately embroidered white flowers that wind across his arms, his front- probably even his back, Chikusa muses, eyes following how the trail goes up and past the man's shoulders.   
  
Something about the cut of his coat tings something in the back of Chikusa's memories, but he can't recall why right off the bat. Well, he guesses it'll come to him eventually. The only thing to do is to keep working, and so he does. Now that the rush has finally ended, leaving only the trail end, Chikusa feels a lot more relaxed and able to breathe as he makes his way over to the table he'd seated the man at. It's something against one of the walls, which he hadn't been thinking of too hard when he'd first sat the man down. It's a relief, too, to see that he'd at least made sure to give the man a glass of water and a menu before he'd gone running off all over again.   
  
"So, have you come to a decision on what you'd like...?" Chikusa asks, voice still slow and quiet despite how much he's been hurrying up until now. The guy better have made up his mind, after all the time he's had to look over the menu while Chikusa has been working himself to death.   
  
His customer seems faintly amused at this display of calmness in the face of adrenaline, although he tilts his head towards Chikusa once he's close enough. "Yes, I believe I've settled on something... Although now I have to wonder if you're doing alright, sir. It seems as though you've had to run around for quite a while."   
  
Why does it feel like this guy kind of enjoyed seeing him run around like a chicken without its head... Ugh. Customer service jobs truly do have no payoff when it comes to the actual customers. "I'm fine," Chikusa says simply, not giving the guy, gorgeous or not, anymore than he's already seen. "It was just a busy day today..." Honestly, he really hopes that's the end of it. A part of him wants to just ask if the guy can hurry up and tell him his order already, instead of acting coy.   
  
All his customer does is smile. "I suppose it must be annoying having someone start up small talk when you don't even know their name. I'm Kikyo. As for your question, yes, I believe I do know what I would like. Do you happen to have anymore eggplant Parmesan left over? It sounds delicious, although rather complicated."   
  
It _is_ complicated, almost unbearably so. Chikusa has always known that to be true, of course... but still, his eggplant parm really is a true labor, although the reviews he's gotten about it seem to make up for it. All the prep takes up a day on its own, the actual baking another day, and it's gotten to the point that Chikusa will often make a great deal of it to save for the days ahead and many ravenous customers. A little bit of reheating, just enough to make sure that it doesn't become so prone to melting that it falls apart, and it's perfect.   
  
Exactly because of that careful preparation, he's able to nod. "We should have some left... So I will prepare a plate of eggplant Parmesan right away for you. With the customary bread as well...?"   
  
"Of course." There's something about his smile that seems too put together, somehow, and Chikusa can't tell if he likes it or not. "From what I understand of this place's bread, it's so delicious that it would be a travesty to not have any. As for a drink, what wine would you recommend?"   
  
Well, for eggplan parm, the answer is obvios. "A white wine... I have the perfect kind."

After that, well, it's fortunately incredibly easy to just head back into the kitchen and begin to prepare the meal so that it's served properly. Hayato is still furiously scrubbing dishes when he starts, and he glances over his shoulder at Chikusa incredulously. "There's _another_ one!?" he snaps, as thought horrifically busy days are anything strange in the restaurant business, let alone theirs.   
  
Chikusa makes a vague noise of confirmation, preoccupied with his cooking. At least at this point, Hayato has gotten used to his slower demeanor, even when Chikusa's hands are otherwise quick, and he just barely manages patience as he waits for an answer that includes words. Which is progress, Chikusa is glad to say. He'll take whatever he can get. After a moment, once he's more comfortable in how the preparation for the parm is coming along, Chikusa speaks up. "Just one more... a single customer. The other two, who ordered a dessert... They look like they'll be done soon. Then we'll be able to take a break..." Something they both sorely need.   
  
Heaving out a sigh, Hayato starts to slow down his aggressive method of cleaning dishes... which isn't saying too much, frankly. Everything Hayato does is aggressive to some degree, this is just a more high energy version than his usual. "About time... Ugh, I wonder why it's so damn busy lately. Is there someone talking about us?"   
  
So there isn't some town celebration or special occasion... Chikusa notes that little fact away in the back of his head as he works. It was something he had been wondering, but he hadn't wanted to drop the facade he's been keeping up of someone who actually exists in the same world. He can get away with a little ignorance, since Hayato still seems to think he just lives in another country or city, but still.... He'd rather not test where his limits are. It's best to stay quiet. "It would be good for business if that were the case... but then, if it keeps up like this, I'll have to hire another person..." Today has clearly shown that he can only do so much when it's just him and Hayato. There has to be another server, at the very least, if he's to cook efficiently and also have someone do the dishes.   
  
Despite the fact that it's a perfectly sensible idea and would ease up Hayato's own burden, his server still makes a face. "Tch... And just how are you going to explain the nature of this place to some newcomer? The only people would be interested in a restaurant like this, once they knew the truth, would only prove to be nothing but trouble."   
  
Faintly, Chikuas wonders if Hayato realizes that he's insulting himself with that desccription. Out loud, he just says, with a simple shrug, "Then we'll just have to choose well." Because they can't keep going on like this, that's for damn sure. Well, either way, he finishes up the eggplant parm, and pours the glass of wine. "When you're done... Let me know. I'll make us dinner... and we can be done for the day. Mostly..." If anyone else jumps into the place, well, they jump in, and Chikusa supposes they'll just deal with it when they need to.  
  
But what he needs to do in the present moment is serve a customer. So, with everything arranged on a platter, Chikusa heads out again. The couple have since left, leaving behind payment on the table. Good. Chikusa isn't sure if common restaurant etiquette is really that important to this culture, or if he should be more concerned that this is something to do with Mukuro Rokudo's influence. Well, gift horses, mouths, all that. Chikusa makes a note to pick up the coin once he's finished serving Kikyo.   
  
As he approaches the man, Kikyo's eyes are closed, and he takes in a visible deep breath through his nose before Chikusa is even halfway across the dining area. "What an excellent smell... You can truly savor the meal before it approaches." He opens his eyes slowly, letting his gaze land on Chikusa in a way that's almost appraising, like someone looking over a fine piece of art. Chikusa would normally attribute that kind of thing to the food he's made, because it's the most noteworthy thing about him on any given day... but somehow, he feels like that can't be it. Shit. He better not be getting a _crush_. That would be annoying. "No wonder this restaurant is rated so highly."   
  
"Thanks for the compliment..." What else can he say? Chikusa just sets the food down before he can get anymore compliments, towards his food or otherwise. "Enjoy." Now he doesn't have any other reason to stick around, Chikusa steps away to clean up the last remaining table, with some small relief. He doesn't care to get crushes, even if they're purely physical.   
  
But his respite doesn't last long. He's only had enough time to clean the table up, deliver the dishes back to Hayato, and collect his coin before Kikyou is waving him over again. Wary because he doesn't know what to expect, Chikusa nonetheless follows the gesture, until he's standing before the table with his hands tucked away in the pocket of his apron. "Is there something unsatisfactory about the meal...?"   
  
"Oh, not at all." Kikyo's eyes shine in a way Chikusa doesn't know how to handle. "Actually, I wanted to pay my compliments to the chef... This meal is excellent, from the ingredients used to the way you've paired the wine up so perfectly with the meal. I was expecting good things from the description you wrote of it alone, of course, but the real thing has exceeded all of my expectations. The eggplant is so substantial that it almost feels as though I'm eating meat, and the sauce makes my mouth absolutely tingle with the fullness of it. It's an excellent creamy taste that rolls on my tongue... and it is truly brought to life by the wine you gave me, so softly fruity and dry that it balances the sauce in ways that I couldn't have imagined. May I have your name, chef?"   
  
Ugh... Why does this seem like such a terrible idea? Technically, it shouldn't matter. Chikusa doesn't live in any place on the other side, with his only connection being the restaurant, and only at certain times, as per his and Mukuro Rokudo's agreement. Even if this guy, or anyone else, wanted to stalk him, then they would be out of luck. As far as he knows, too, giving out his name to people won't do anything... This world doesn't run on British or Celtric fae logic. Besides, even with all of that said, he's already introduced himself to plenty of other people in this world whenever they've asked, like Hayato. So why does it bug him, this idea?   
  
If he avoids, it will probably make a scene of some sort... or maybe even make this guy somehow more interested in him. So Chikusa sighs, already sensing another troublesome evening ahead of him, before he answers. "Chikusa. Just that." Because that should be enough.

For now, it seems to be, although, while he doesn't press, Kikyo still seems terribly amused about something. Faintly, Chikusa wonders if there's anything that would wipe that kind of look off the faces of men like this. Sure, there's always murder, but he's fairly certain that he can't get away with that any easier than he could in his own world. "Chikusa. What a lovely name. If I'm not mistaken..."   
  
On the bright side, this forced conversation is soon interrupted. On the down side, it's interrupted because Hayato's voice suddenly rises up in distinct outrage from the small hallway that leads into the kitchen. "What the _fuck_ are you doing here!?"   
  
While Chikusa stares dead eyed at a wall in hopes that his restaurant might collapse in on him, Kikyo merely leans back with his wine and sips from it leisurely. They're the actions of a man perfectly at ease, and not worried at all about some thug slamming his fist into his face. "Hello to you as well, Priest Gokudera. Although I suppose you've lost that rather holy title considering the recent events that I've heard along the temple grapevine."   
  
A flinch spasms across Hayato's face, as though he's been punched. Yet he recovers quick enough, just like he would in an actual fist fight, and his lips are already open in preparation for a retaliatory blow... only, unlike Kikyo, his reaction could go either metaphorical in its punching or literal.   
  
"No fighting in my restaurant," he says, sharp and quick, tone a flash of a knife in this immature bullshit that might erupt in his dining area. He's lucky that there aren't any other customers, or who knows what could happen then? Kikyo and Hayato alike pause at it, blinking at him. It's not a tone he's ever often shown before, in his restaurant, not even for Hayato who's worked with him through some busy dinner rushes... But for now, he thinks it's needed. While he still has them off-guard, Chikusa sighs and nudges his glasses further up his nose by the outside of his frames. "...Kikyo... isn't that right?" He glances at the man from behind his glasses, eyes narrowed. "Picking fights in my restaurant.. is enough for me to toss you out."   
  
Kikyo's eyebrows rise up to his hairline, although Chikusa can't entirely tell if it's because he's impressed at Chikusa's threat or incredulous. Well, he can stare all he likes. As long as he shuts up... That's the important thing. Chikusa only has a moment to ponder this before Hayato is at his side, hissing into his ear. "I have this covered! I'd smash his head into the floor before a single bit of furniture could be scratched!"   
  
Frankly, with the cool and powerful way that Kikyo holds himself, Chikusa has to wonder... but if he says that to Hayato, that's only going to start a fight. _That_ is exactly what he's trying to avoid. So instead he raises an eyebrow at him. "Who says I'm interested in the furniture..." Something about that seems to frazzle Hayato, but Chikusa is already turning his attention away from his flushed face. "Anyway... We're going to sit down... and I'm going to figure out what's going on.... Since I guess I have to, now, if you're going to be a problem..."   
  
"That wasn't my intent, but very well." Kikyo goes back to sipping wine, still too in control in Chikusa's own restaurant. Ugh. Lips drawn thin, Chikuas forcefully begins to guide Hayato by the arm to a restaurant on the other side of the aisle.   
  
It's not exactly a _comfortable_ atmosphere, to say the least. Kikyo gives off the air of a cat that is extremely aware of how upset his owners are when he's just knocked over a glass. Hayato, in contrast, is the dog that is barely restrained by his collar from scrambling up to the counter where the cat is lounging. Chikusa feels, not for the first time in his life and probably not for the last, that he's a very tired pet owner.   
  
"Hayato," he says, if only to draw the other man's attention from Kikyo and towards himself. "Who is this... exactly... and why do you hate him so much." A pause, and Chikusa decided his question needed an amendment. "In short sentences. That doesn't take longer than maybe ten minutes... if you really have to." Shorter, obviously, would be preferable. Chikusa had spent a lot of his time in Hayato's company almost a captive audience to his rambling about gods, religion, and other such things. He didn't need a repeat this time, only about whatever grudge that was had about this guy.   
  
Hayato grits his teeth, working out some aggression in the only way he knows how, before he forces himself to speak. "This guy... is High Priest Kikyo, temple for the God of Games and Risk. Those kind of assholes are barely worth even talking about."   
  
And yet Chikusa knows for a fact that he's heard Hayato complain about that very same god beforehand, or at least his followers. Complaining about the gods _directly_ has always seemed like a guaranteed way, in any mythos or religion, to get that very same god on one's doorstep for the disrespect. Instead, Hayato has always spoken with no small amount of contempt for this particular god, especially when it came to Hayato's own personal favorite that he had devoted himself to. Apparently there might be some conflict there... Although Chikusa suspects Hayato has conflict with any god, and their followers, who gets into an argument or anything with the God of Ember and Wildfire.   
  
Here is what Chikusa knows about the God of Games and Risk: he is the equivalent of Loki in this world, in terms of questionable ideas and causing trouble and not dying as a consequence of any of this. He is characterized by the presence of flowers constantly growing around him, or possibly from him; sources vary. One time he tried to see if he could bring about the end of the world for kicks, which speaks a lot of his personality, and Ember and Wildfire had to stop him. His temples are brilliant white, which require constant attention, and his followers believe that there is nothing that cannot technically be characterized as a 'game' or 'gamble'. This, from what he understands of Hayato's prior bitching, means that the temple tends to attract know it alls and jackasses, both which are equally insufferable but in their own distinct ways.   
  
This does, at least, explain part of Kikyo's mannerisms, although it leaves a lot more a mystery. At least all of that has been answered. Letting out a quiet sigh between his teeth, Chikusa allows his gaze to drift back to Kikyo. The man has continued eating, as though none of this is a problem at all. "Even if they're not worth talking about... You're going to have to here. Why do you have such an issue with him... Is it just because he's a high priest to Games and Risk?"

Hayato wrinkles his nose, looking as though he'd rather do anything but address the question. It's Kikyo who ends up answering after one more bite of his eggplant parmesan. "Oh, that's simply a bit of professional rivalry. I had been serving my god for much longer, you see, and gained his favor so quickly that it's not too uncommon for the priests of other temples to become jealous, especially since the temple in Millefiore is thriving so well. Lately, it's even been able to rival the Vongola temple to the Ember god on some occasions, I'm honored to say. Well, in the interests of friendly relations between the many temples, there are certain events meant to bring us all together, and talk of scripture, the divine... You understand."   
  
"I think I get the picture," Chikusa says dryly, and doesn't mention how this sounds like some sort of mass... employee get together for some massive corporation, but instead of trying to please a shitty boss, they're attempting to show the gods that if these bunch of bratty humans can get along, can't they? At least, that's the only reason Chikusa can think anyone would want to do something like that. Then again, he always did hate school festivals...   
  
Satisfied with the response, or maybe any response at all, Kikyo keeps going. "Well, some of those events can get somewhat... _competitive_." His smirk only seems to get all the more sly, and Hayato looks like he really is going to vault himself over a table and right at Kikyo. Sighing, Chikusa reaches over just enough to nudge his fingers against Hayato's, and is pleasantly surprised to find just that little reminder is enough to ease Hayato back into his seat. Barely, but it works. Having his goad attempt made unsuccessful, Kikyo continues. "One of those had to do with making potions and spectacles for the crowd. Those with the best reception from the crowd, simple devote folk whose contributions would act as donations to particular temples. I of course felt I should represent my own temple, and Priest Gokudera here managed to... _convince_ those of his own group that he would go up for victory."   
  
There's a pause, as both of them silently acknowledge that any "convincing" of Hayato's was done purely through a lot of yelling and aggression and just forcing himself into the position before anyone else could stop him.   
  
With that mental image unspoken but understood between them, Kikyo leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together over one knee. "Well, needless to say, I won."  
  
...What a blunt finish for such a detailed story by such a coolly flamboyant man. Then again, maybe that's the point, beceause having it stated so matter of factly only seems to enrage Hayato _more_ , and he slams his hand against the table as he snaps up onto his feet. To his credit, he _does_ at least not charge after Kikyo. That's something. Chikusa will take it. "You were just a flashy bastard who didn't deserve the win!" he snaps. For a second, Chikusa almost thinks that Hayato might... just be jealous, and holding a grudge, over the person who beat him in a competition. It certainly seems to fit the bill, and doesn't, honestly, seem all that strange. As it turns out, he's only half right, as Hayato sweeps his arm out sharply through the air and keeps going. "If you were really so confident in your abilities, you wouldn't have cheated at the competition!"   
  
...Well. On one hand, what an interesting twist to the story. On the other hand, Chikusa feels he could really do without this other world drama happening in his dining area. He'll just have to ignore all of this for the time being, and he raises one hand while the other goes to pinch the bridge of his nose. This is the very last thing he needs after the kind of busy day that he has just experienced. "Alright.... So that's fine."   
  
Like a whip, Hayato snaps in his direction. "What! Not it isn't!"   
  
Slowly, Chikusa's eyes move in his direction. He doesn't want to waste energy on moving his entire head. "Your issues with him... seem to be mostly personal. So a lot of this... isn't my problem, honestly. That's just a matter of keeping it professional." While Hayato snaps his mouth shut so quickly that Chikusa can hear his teeth clack, he allows his eyes to roam over to Kikyo as well. "But... that doesn't mean it's _all_ fine."   
  
Kikyo raises his eyebrows so smoothly that figure skaters could do their programs on them. "Oh?"   
  
"I don't care if you cheat or whatever outside of this restaurant... That's your business, and the responsibility of whoever you're dealing with. But in here... I _do_ expect to be paid. In legitimate money." Letting his hand slowly fall from his face, Chikusa leans back in his chair. "So... That's the first matter."   
  
Closing his eyes at the same time that he reaches into his coat pocket, Kikyou merely gives that too cool smile that isn't quite enough to be called a smirk and yet carries the same vibe as one. "I see... A businessman before all else, is that it? I understand perfectly. But you have no need to worry." From his coat, he pulls out a simple coin purse, and opens it to allow a substantial amount to spill out from its mouth. "I understand in order to play the game of life, you need something to offer. I have more than enough, as is only fitting of a high priest."   
  
In his world, there's no small amount of criticisms labeled towards various different Christian groups for their obsession of wealth, whether it's the lavish decoration of certain churches such as though he remembers seeing often in his youth in Italy, or so-called "pastors" who clamored to rob the faithful and vulnerable of their own money by saying it was necessary. The "seed" idealogy that never seems to work. It must not be the same here in this world, if Kikyo can speak so freely about it... Or maybe it's just something to do with his particular personality.   
  
Again: not his problem. Instead, Chikusa pushes himself up onto his feet, the force of it making him sway slightly before he rights himself. As he begins to slouch his way across the aisle, he doesn't go it alone, with Hayato dogging at his footsteps like he doesn't think Chikusa can handle this... whatever _this_ really ends up being, in the end. Kikyo allows him free reign to look over the coin, which Chikusa has gotten pretty good at telling apart the genuine articles from the fakes. Then again, he's good at it in his own world, too... and there's not much difference in this world, either. Just more coin instead of paper. Probably better for the trees, he guesses.   
  
Once he's helped himself to payment from Kikyo, Chikusa rolls the coin between his fingers as he eyes the other man. His technical customer. "Then that's solved. The other thing is..." Ugh. Honestly, he doesn't even want to ask, but there's no point in running awya. He's more than aware of that. "As a high priest... I take it that means you're particularly favored by your god... right?" That's another thing he's heard from Hayato: that high priests are chosen by their gods, which includes a divine revelation and even potentially a meeting. Mainly he knows this because Hayato has more than once complained about how he was kicked out of the temple before he could be certainly chosen by Ember and Wildfire. Now, Chikusa can't help but wonder if he's just been jealous all this time of people such as Kikyo.   
  
The way Hayato quietly seethes and clenches his fists at his side while Kikyo smiles some more only seems to provide more evidence for that working theory. "That's right."   
  
Hm. Chikusa tucks the coin away before he leans against the table, his palm pressing all his weight down onto it until his knuckles are pressing out against his skin. "Then... would it be too outside the realm of possibility... for me to assume that this god of yours sent you here to specifically be a nuisance to me?"   
  
From the side, he can already tell that Hayato is giving him a frankly bewildered and incredulous look because he can't see why gods would personally involve themselves in the affair of just some random cook. Sure, a random cook with his restaurant's door leading to various places at any given time, but just a random cook nonetheless. Yet Chikusa is validated when Kikyo tilts his chin downwards for a faint laugh. "Ah... So you've already been tipped off to possibilities like this, have you?"   
  
If he knew anything more about the religion of this world, and more of the mythos besides all the Ember and Wildfire stories that Hayato has drilled into his head over the months that they've been working together now, Chikusa supposes he could drop some cool one liner about Creation, or at least three attractive women kissing him after dropping the bomb that he'd be dealing with divine annoyances on a regular basis. But since he doesn't, all Chikusa says is, "Sure." It's not much of an answer. In some ways, it's even a non-answer.   
  
Still, apparently Kikyo is used to dealing with more stubborn and annoying people than him, or equal amounts of stubborn, because he interprets it well enough and nods with a look of self satisfaction etched all across his face. "Well, if it is of any consolation to you, it's not _you_ that has drawn my lord's attention."   
  
There's a lot to address there already, but Chikusa doesn't get a chance to go at it. Hayato's hand wraps around his arm again, tugging him just a couple of steps away from Kikyo so that he can press their heads closer together. "Wait, ignoring that asshole for the time being," Hayato hisses underneath his breath. "Why is Game and Risk suddenly taking notice of _you_? What did you _do_? And how did you know this would be a problem!?"   
  
If he doesn't want to tell Kikyo about this, then Chikusa really doesn't want to do it while the man is just a few yards away. Maybe one day he'll tell Hayato about it... but on the other hand, it seems like it would just open up an entire can of worms if he told anyone, Hayato included, that he's from another world. So instead, he just sighs, and vaguely says, "Someone in the know... visited one day and told me."   
  
This is _also_ a non answer. But it's one that allows for a lot of interpretation by anyone who hears it, often before they even realize what a non answer it is. This is the case with a lot of people Chikusa has met in his life, Hakkai being one of the few who hasn't fallen for it, and it's the case for Hayato as he nods. "Yeah, other priests might hear about this kind of thing," he mutters, already assuming someone visited on a day that he didn't work. Chikusa is pretty sure that's what's going through his mind. If there's one thing he's glad for it's that Hayato is sometimes incredibly easy to reas. "But that doesn't explain why a god of any kind would have an interest in your restaurant."   
  
So, while he can get away with hiding the whole "being from another world" thing, Chikusa supposes he'll have to give this one up. Sure, he could lie, but in this situation, so unstable as it is, it seems like he'd just be as likely to get called out for it than anything. That's the last thing that he needs, making the situation worse... and Hakkai always has been trying to teach him how to de-escalate a situation. (Whether Hakkai was the best choice for this is another question entirely.) So Chikusa heaves out another sigh. "...The magic door is the fault of another god."   
  
"Shit," Hayato says, although it's so far just surprised and wary than outright concerned. "Which one?" Because they both know that sort of question is the one that makes all the difference.  
  
"I don't know," Chikusa has to admit, annoying as it may be to do so. "He didn't give me his godly title..." But then something hits him, and he tilts his head to the side. "But.. he had mismatched eyes." It's never been something he's been able to bring up before, considering it's so specific a question - what gods have mismatched eyes? But since this part of the gig is up, well, he guesses it doesn't matter now.   
  
What matters is the way that Hayato recoils like Chikusa has just pulled a spider out from inside his shirt and dropped it on him. "Are you _kidding_ me!?" he hisses, barely managing to keep his voice low. "You had to get involved with a _death god_!? Why would a god of death even care about food?!"  
  
Honestly, that's what Chikusa wanted to know from the beginning, and that question has only become more of note now that he knows what Mukuro Rokudo's official designation as a god is. Before he can ask more about that, or even so much as voice his own incredulousness at his situation, Kikyo speaks up. Apparently, despite how Hayato was trying his best considering the circumstances, he managed to hear their exchange regardless. "Is it really up to creatures like us to question the desires of the divine?"   
  
Hayato whirls around, his finger an accusation as he points it at Kikyo. "I don't want to hear it from you!" he snarls, lips curled over bared teeth.   
  
Well, it's probably for the better that their conversation was interrupted. Right now, they need to deal with what's in front of them. Waving Hayato down, for how little that will help or do anything at all, Chikusa murmurs his reminder. "No fighting..." Well, if they do, he guesses he might have to put Hayato's suspicion to rest if he sees a god right there in the flesh himself. Still keeping in mind his last resort, Chikusa crosses his arms. "At any rate... So you said your god isn't interested in me, is that right?"

Well, it's probably for the better that their conversation was interrupted. Right now, they need to deal with what's in front of them. Waving Hayato down, for how little that will help or do anything at all, Chikusa murmurs his reminder. "No fighting..." Well, if they do, he guesses he might have to put Hayato's suspicion to rest if he sees a god right there in the flesh himself. Still keeping in mind his last resort, Chikusa crosses his arms. "At any rate... So you said your god isn't interested in me, is that right?"   
  
"That's right." There's somehow still wine left in Kikyo's glass; he takes a sip of it. "Rather, he's more interested in this place, and the god who has made you his follower. You'll likely not be involved at all, save for your connection to this place. I would not worry of it, if I were you. I doubt there's very much you could do in any case. My god is the most powerful of the pantheon."   
  
" _Lionshit_ ," Hayato snaps, and Chikusa can feel his soul steadily leave his body. Dammit. Goddammit- wait, no, maybe he shouldn't be invoking any kind of god considering the current situation. That's annoying. "If he were truly the most powerful-"   
  
"Are you insulting a god, former Priest Gokudera?"   
  
"It's not _insult_ , I'm just stating simple fact, Wildfire clearly put an end to games when-"  
  
"How many times do I have to say no fighting is allowed in my restaurant.." Chickusa resists the urge to lay facedown on the wooden floor, and the equally strong urge to take a knife to either of the men besides him. Killing clergy is kind of a big deal in his world, and he's pretty sure that goes double when the gods seem to take a more personal approach in this world. "Why does your god care about this place? I doubt it's because of my food..." While Mukuro Rokudo had placed a contract between them for the purpose of food, and Creation had liked it all well enough, Chikusa doubts he's _that_ good of a chef to earn divine attention so quickly. "Is it because of the door...?"   
  
That is to say, is it because it's a connecting point between two different universes entirely?  
  
While he's not sure if Kikyo was informed of that by his god, the man does shake his head. "Oh no," he says. "This is merely beceause it is connected to the god of Strife and Sickness."  
  
...Chikusa thins his lips. "...Does he just want to use this place to bother Strife, then?" When all Kikyo does is smile with that annoying smile of his, Chikusa squeezes his eyes shut. This is exactly what he doesn't need. He's gotten caught up in a divine game of "I'm not toooouching you" and he wants to murder a god because of it. In his own world, he's never really had a particularly stellar view of gods as it is, which he feels to be perfectly fair on more than way respect. Yet this world has really made that view worse. He wonders, briefly, if he could just break the contract off with Mukuro Rokudo. If the death god doesn't agree, well, that's fine, Chikusa knows how to ghost people to the point that Hakkai has laughed that he's made an art form out of it. A restaurant doesn't need him at it for him to run it. It's just what he prefers to do, especially as the chef.   
  
While Chikusa is still debating on whether or not he should essentially abandon his own restaurant, and if he can outlive some asshole god's curiosity and mainly gluttony, Kikyo rises up to his feet. Immediately, Hayato is bristling like the world's most outraged and feral guard cat. Kikyo simply ignores him, as he admittedly has been for the majority of this conversation, and reaches over for Chikusa's hand. Immediately, Chikusa twitches it out of the way, eyes narrowed at the pretty boy before him.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to worry about the priest trying again. Instead, he chuckles and tilts his head towards Chikusa in understanding before he sinks down onto one knee. One of his hands rises up, resting over his heart, where some brilliant lily embroidery lies shining in the light of the restaurant. The other he holds up to Chikusa, presumably still wanting his hand. Chikusa doesn't give it to him. "While it was under the orders of my god that I come to this place, for the purpose of attracting Strife and Sickness, I have to admit that I had been hoping to venture here of my own accord. My curiosity had been making its own demands in the back of my mind, you see."   
  
That... isn't something that's inherently suspicious to hear, Chikusa has to admit. There are other reasons that someone would want to come to his restaurant, plenty of them in fact. Maybe the ongoing feud between him and Hayato is still something of interest to him, although Chikusa admittedly can't see what a guy like Kikyo would get out of it. Maybe he had heard some rumor of a mysterious restaurant; that's always plausible. Or maybe Chikusa is really lucky, and this guy just genuinely came for some good food.   
  
That last one probably isn't true in any capacity, and Chikusa essentially gives up on it before it even has a chance to properly form.   
  
Guesswork doesn't really have a place here in this conversation, so he goes for blunt honesty instead as he asks, of the man kneeling at his feet, "So what were those demands... exactly?"  
  
Kikyo's smile, somehow, only seems to get all the more sly and, annoyingly, gorgeous. "Why, it was for you, of course."   
  
...There were a lot of answers he was waiting to hear but, even in the most absurd among them, Chikusa can't s ay he was expecting _himself_ to be a factor.   
  
While he's left there, staring in dull shock, Kikyo keeps going. "You're quite a fable, you know. The mysterious chef of a peculiar restaurant known as Platypus Place, granting food so good that people have never been satisfied by anything else again, with food so fresh and savory that it could bring tears to one's eye. And yet even when the food is hot, everyone speaks of the reclusive chef who occasionally serves them, distant as any star and cold as a spring's hail. Some have even thought you to be a spirit of some sort, perhaps one of Creation, while others believe you to have a tie to Innovation. Others think you to be connected to Desire..." A low chuckle rolls out of those soft lips of his. Shit. When did he start thinking of his mouth like that? "Well, that last one may be the closest to the truth, isn't it? Although I believe you to be very much human."   
  
No one has ever spoken of him like that before. For the first time in a truly long time, Chikusa feels some heat begin to burn along his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. If he were on his own, well... Chikusa has no idea how he would react. Possibly he would just be left there staring in utter surprise. Yet for not the first time, he's grateful for Hayato's presence in the restaurant tonight, because his employee and ex-priest just squints at him. "I knew about the rumors saying you were some sort of ghost," he says slowly, as though he can't believe what he's just had to listen to. "But a divine spirit...? But a star? Spring's hail? A spirit of _Desire_? You're made out of twigs, the bones of some dead cursed animal, and a bucket of booze that was accidentally left out in the winter night. What's all this _poetry_ about?"   
  
Sometimes, it really helps to be brought down to earth. That doesn't make it any less jarring to hear that kind of description after he's just been... listening to Kikyo talk. Blinking slowly, he looks at Hayato from the corner of his eye. "...Thanks for that..."   
  
"Listen, I'm just saying!" Hayato snaps, before he turns to Kikyo's chuckling facade with a glare on his face. This is nothing new for Hayato, honestly, but Chikusa has to admit that this one is particularly fearsome. "And you - so you were hoping to make some sort of pact with a spirit, were you?" Another term that Chikusa has heard in the context of Hayato retelling myths and fables and certain religious tales. It sounds almost similar to what he and Mukuro Rokudo apparently have going on, although on slightly more equal grounds. There are apparently a lot of famous priests notable for spirit pacts. The most notable one, that Gokudera will apparently never shut up about until his dying days, would be how one of the first priests to Ember and Wildfire made a pact with a brilliant fire spirit simply named 'G'. Chikusa isn't sure about the specifics... but he knows that it has a tendency to making certain aspects of their pacted human much stronger.   
  
Faintly, he wonders if it would be worth trying to make a pact with someone himself. With how much trouble keeps coming to his restaurant, it could be a solid idea.   
  
For the time being, he draws himself out of hypotheticals and instead glances down at Kikyo as the man draws himself up with a slight chuckle. "Oh, nothing like that, Gokudera. I can clearly see which aspect of my compliment you decided to focus on... but believe me when I say that is not the reason why I decided to come." While Chikusa makes a firm decision not to think much harder on that, Kikyo smiles at him. "Although I will say that the rumors of excellent food were enough of a draw all on their own, whether or not a spirit cooked them."  
  
"...Thanks." Sighing, Chikusa reaches up to adjust his hat for the day. This is really too much. "At any rate... You've likely accomplished your task. I'll probably get an earful tonight once he realizes what's gone on. So if you could just... go already..."  
  
"Now, don't be like that, Chi-kun!"  
  
Chikusa jolts at the sound of a voice foreign to the three that have been taking part in this conversation so far, and he whirls around, a knife already in his hand at the same time that Hayato has a vial of something whipped out from somewhere on his person. Chikusa would make a note to have a talk with him about that later... if it weren't exactly the thing he needs right now. Faintly, in the back of his head, he's aware that Kikyo has immediately dropped to one knee again, and this time with his head bowed reverently.   
  
That's all the answer Chikusa needs to tell him the identity of the man standing before him, with madonna lily white hair and a strange mark on one cheek. A smile similar to Kikyo's is on his face, only a lot more relaxed in his supposed power. When Chikusa's expression only goes all the more flat at his appearance, not even bothering to use the door, Game and Risk only laughs. "Ah, sorry that I didn't knock! But I didn't want to be late for this conversation." He lazily waves in Kikyo's direction. "You did really good work-"   
  
Whatever else he had been planning to say, he doesn't get a chance to. In a burst of mist and smelling like a storm, Mukuro Rokudo appears with a trident being swung right at Byakuran's head.

What happens next is a little... hard for even Chikusa to keep track of, and he's always prided himself on his excellent eye sight (when augmented with glasses, obviously). There's whirls of energy, and mist almost seems to be condensing on his skin. At some point, Hayato drags him back and away from it all, to the wall where Kikyo is already standing with his hands folded neatly behind his back. As the three of them stay out of the way and recover, Mukuro Rokudo and Byakuran clash in the middle of the restaurant - the latter managing to hold off the trident from smashing into his face with only one hand.   
  
The two of them are exchanging words, but it's too low for Chikusa to accurately hear. Impossibly low, as a matter of fact, much more low than a person can even speak without it being a whisper. As Chikusa takes in a few overturned tables, Hayato curses underneath his breath. "I can't believe this... Shit, I was expecting to see a clash between gods at the temple, maybe, if I was really lucky - or unlucky, I guess. But this kind of shit... Hey!"   
  
That sudden exclamation would no doubt be because Chikusa has yanked his way out of Hayato's grip, knife spinning in his free hand like it never had any other purpose besides being his weapon. " _What_ ," he snaps, voice rising to blade sharpness instead of the usual quiet mumble, "have I been saying is the rule in _my_ restaurant?" Even as he stalks forward, both gods pull away from each other, blinking and carrying their own brand of confusion. Byakuran has the amused shock of someone who's just gotten their ankle bitten by a small dog while, in comparison, Mukuro Rokudo looks as though he's never had anyone lose their temper at him in his entire life and doesn't know what to make of it.   
  
Considering his personality, Chikusa finds that very hard to believe.   
  
There's no time to think too hard about that; Chikusa feels tight as a spring, a pot finally boiling over, and he doesn't give a _single damn_ if he's pointing a knife towards a pair of gods as he comes right up to them, right under Risk's chin. "It's one of the few damn rules I care for in my restaurant," he says, voice low and eyes dark. "No fighting in my restaurant. _In. My. Restaurant._ If you want to murder one another and throw an entire world into disarray, you can do that. But _not here_." The restaurant feels darker. Tighter. It looks, from the corner of Chikusa's eyes, like how he feels. The smell of rain thick in the back of his throat, filling his lungs. He wants to let loose a torrent, and the only dam in his way is that he has no idea _how_. "If either of you continue this, in my dining hall, then I'll..."   
  
What possible threat he could make to a pair of gods is a mystery he won't have to answer for today. At the same time that something drips down onto him, so light if not that it came in a scattered fall with other drops, Chikusa feels something drip thickly over his upper lip and down both of his cheeks. The world gains a thin film of red that he quickly blinks away - or at least tries to. It only takes a quick swallow for him to realize what it is, even as more and lighter droplets of what's apparently just rain fall onto his head and shoulders.   
  
It is raining indoors, specifically the indoors of his restaurant, and he is crying blood.   
  
Chikusa swears, violently and in Italian, before his body informs him that he should be unconscious now and he's not in much of a condition to disagree. He doesn't even remember hitting the ground.

* * *

When he comes to, it's slowly, hazily, and there's just a distant low buzzing that he faintly recognizes as someone exasperated saying something. Chikusa doesn't stress about it too much. He's frankly not in any condition to. Nausea swims throughout his head as he comes into consciousness, and there's still the taste of copper in his mouth, on the very back of his tongue. It's still raining, too, apparently. He can feel it, the second his brain sparks into awareness again, even before he hears the sound of talking.   
  
With what he remembers having to deal with before his apparent bloody everything, Chikusa isn't in a rush to wake up anyway. He just lays wherever he is - it must be on the floor, considering the hard wood he can feel against his spine, but there's something bunched up underneath his head acting as a cushion. Or, wait, that's only one part of it. Sure, there's something bunched up, but there's something firmer, too. He just has no idea _what_ , and the mystery of that is enough to spur his mind into further consciousness.   
  
The voice becomes a little clearer, and it's yet another one that he doesn't recognize - but it feels younger than either Mukuro Rokudo, or the god of Games and Risks. Chikusa manages to wake up enough to catch him in mid-sentence. "-always you. It's always you two. It's one thing when you're almost ending the world because of a petty grudge or perceived slight. But this? This is ridiculous. Your obnoxious rivalry is getting on everyone's nerves. If you two aren't listening to me, I can keep this going for a decade. Then neither of you will get to enjoy sundaes."   
  
Mukuro Rokudo sounds distinctly outraged. "Is that a _threat_?"   
  
"Yes."  
  
Next is Games and Risks. "Aaaaah, Tsunayoshi-kun, there's no need to do anything drastic..."   
  
"Both of you are responsible for starting a fight in a defenseless human's abode. There is _every_ reason to do something drastic. Did you two get so caught up that you forgot the rules?"   
  
Alright... This sounds important enough to warrant the frustration, annoyance, and effort of getting up. Chikusa slowly opens his eyes and promptly squints, realizing belatedly that at some point his glasses were removed. The ceiling above him is nothing more than a vague swatch of brown, punctuated by bright lights. A little closer, and with a little more detail, he's surprised to find Hayato there, staring straight ahead, but the positioning makes it more than clear just where Chikusa is. His head is actually resting on the guy's _lap_ , and he belatedly realizes that there's a light pressure on his bare head - no beanie, only a palm curving over his hair.   
  
"Where are my glasses?" he mumbles up at his waiter, which is when Hayato finally jerks and realizes he's awake.   
  
"Shit-" There's some fumbling he can only kind of see, from position and his shitty eyes combined, before Hayato delicately slides his glasses onto his face. It's kind of a surprise, honestly. Chikusa would have expected him to just hand them over, not the way those fingers linger slowly against his cheeks as they slide the frames into place behind his ears. "Are you alright?"  
  
If he's really honest, Chikusa would hazard a guess and say he hasn't been alright in his entire life, save for a few moments where he got to spend it with Hakkai. For now, however... "As well as can be expected." Using one hand to push himself up into a sitting position, Chikusa uses the other to feel along his face. There's no stickiness, no tackiness, no thick fluid smearing along at his touch. There's not even the crust of dried blood, although Chikusa doubts it would have had a chance to, considering the rain. He'll take it as a good sign, and instead puts his attention to the trio of people standing a slight ways off, once again right in the middle of his restaurant's dining area.

The first thing that strikes him... is that both gods who had previously been fighting in his restaurant are now kneeling on the ground, and possibly have been for a while now. This would be because of the _multitude_ of black cats which are sitting on them, from their laps to their shoulders to one particularly fluffy and spiteful menace to society having taken up a spot draped across Mukuro Rokudo's head. Chikusa would never have thought that mere cats could do that to gods... but after his day, he'll believe anything. It's tiring. Leaving that weird mystery for another moment, he lets his gaze drift to the one person who is actually standing in the room instead of on the ground in some form or another.   
  
It's... a young man, although Chikusa can't begin to guess at his age. Early thirties? Late teens? He's _short_ , and that's really all Chikusa can say on that front. Short, and with a full head of hair that's wildly out of control and shape, only that it's pure fluff. Frankly, he doesn't seem too remarkable... at least, until he turns his head to look over his shoulder at Chikusa. That's when a pair of blazing amber eyes light upon him, intense and warm in equal measure. Distantly, a similar feeling to Creation settles upon Chikusa's shoulders, and the smell of rain that's been filling his lungs so much ever since he regained consciousness is replaced by the faint smell of burning wood. Somehow, that's comforting. It almost makes up for the fire burning from the man's forehead, a brilliant flare of flame almost like a flower.   
  
"Oh good," the man says calmly, as though he wasn't absolutely reaming out a pair of other gods all on his own, because Chikusa almost instinctively knows who this is even before any introductions. Even besides the name of "Tsunayoshi". "I was worried that you wouldn't recover completely after that much power flooded through you... but it looks like you're doing fine."   
  
There's a lot he wants to ask here, and, frankly, the God of Ember and Wildfire seems like a more reliable source than the other two jackasses in the room, so he guesses that's a silver lining. He really needs one of those right now - a reliable source _and_ a silver lining - because his head is still killing him with how sick he feels. Closing his eyes to help block away the sensation, even if that barely helps, Chikusa lets out a breath. "...What power?"   
  
"The power given to you by the contract done between you and Mukuro." Tsunayoshi's gaze slowly drifts over to lay judgmentally on Mukuro Rokudo himself, whose response is to try and simultaneously preen even as he does his best to avoid eye contact. It doesn't go for the effect he is very clearly going for. "Normally, when a god chooses a human follower to invest in, like a high priest, only a small fraction of their power is channeled to the human... and I mean small on the human side, not on the god side. But you're not like most humans we deal with." Even though he doesn't say anything explicit, Chikusa knows he means humans that are around _here_. "So things took an unexpected turn... _which you would know if you weren't so reckless when it came to your human followers_."   
  
That last sentence is spoken not at him, but at Mukuro Rokudo, who finally looks up at Tsunayoshi with a death glare. "I pay _perfect_ attention to my followers," he says with a sickly sweet and violent tone. He tries to stand up, straining against the apparently massive weight of black cats, before giving up. Chikusa makes a note to ask Tsunayoshi if he can bower some of those. They feel like, for his current situation, that they would be immeasurably useful. Giving up with the cats, Mukuro Rokudo tilts his chin up imperiously despite the absurdity of the situation. "I merely knew that he would adjust to the power in him more than well enough. Unlike you, Tsunayoshi, I have faith in my followers' ability to persevere and doing what I need of them."   
  
That sounds like a lot of bullshit, and Tsunayoshi seems to agree with Chikusa's own inner thoughts considering the flat look he levels onto Mukuro Rokudo before his attention drifts back to the two humans in the room. "I'm really sorry about this," he says, and the fire begins to dwindle from the spot in his forehead. As the fire fades, so does the burning amber in his eyes, until he looks a lot more... mundane than Chikusa would have ever thought. "Uh, that's to both of you. You're included in the apology, Hayato Gokudera."   
  
Chikusa hasn't been paying too much attention to his employee for the last couple of minutes, more focused on the shitshow happening in front of him. Now, however, it finally occurs to him how big of a deal this is for somehow like Hayato, and he looks to the side. Sure enough, Hayato seems like he's five seconds from swooning, and he's clearly hanging onto Tsunayoshi's every word, no matter how mundane or trivial. At being addressed, he's immediately jolted up at attention, despite still sitting on the ground. "There's no need to apologize to me, my glorious flame!" he says, the fervor- oh jeez. Hayato has always had a certain religious fanaticism when it's come to his patron god, but now that he's actually sitting in front of the god in question? It's... worse. Chikusa faintly wonders how bad he was while he was unconscious. "You've done everything _perfectly_ , as expected!"   
  
Such fervent belief makes Tsunayoshi shift uncomfortably in place and, behind his back, Mukuro Rokudo makes a distinct face like he's going to gag. All Games and Risks does is lightly laugh. "Um... Thank... you?" Tsunayoshi tries, rubbing the back of his neck. For someone allegedly at the top of the pantheon, he sure doesn't seem comfortable with all the limelight.   
  
Well, Hayato can be a fanboy on his own time, elsewhere. For now, Chikusa realizes that one party is missing, and he looks around. "...That priest, Kikyo... Where did he go?" Chikusa isn't exactly concerned for his safety or anything, but the situation has very clearly gone past the line where he can claim ignorance and be safe for it. The more he knows, including where everyone is in this particular scenario, the better.   
  
Hayato opens his mouth, clearly with intent to answer, before Kikyo's familiar voice rolls out from the direction of the kitchens. "Is that some worry I detect?" he asks, and chuckles when Chikusa only stares at him. "I suppose not... Still, I am glad that you are awake, and no longer in such a precarious situation as you were before. You worried us quite a bit." Stepping away from the staff area, he makes his way over to Chikusa and kneels in much the same way as he did before, only now his arm rests along his knee comfortably. "I want to give my apologies."

...Sure. Chikusa sighs, closing his eyes again while he rests the heel of his palm against his head. Still no pain, which is not surprising, but the nausea is still there. "...Sorry for what?" he presses. Another lesson from Hakkai: never accept an apology that's only an apology and nothing else. Some people - most people - view it as nothing more than a get-out-of-jail-free card. Kikyo in particulra seems like one of those types.   
  
Fortunately for his headache, Kikyo doesn't miss a beat, and was probably expecting it in the first place, judging by how quickly he bows his head politely. "It was never my intent to lead to a fight occurring in your restaurant, although I do not doubt the righteousness of my god. I would like to repay you for the trouble caused." Yet before Chikusa can finish running up the numbers in his head on what would be appropriate to charge him for being a pain in his ass, Kikyo looks up into his eyes with that unfairly gorgeous gaze and says, "In that vein, please allow me to work in your restaurant."   
  
Hayato's screech of outrage can probably be heard in a _third_ dimension, not to mention the two Chikusa is already familiar with, and the chef raises his hands to his ears immediately. He can't deal with that kind of noise, not with the state his head is in. Frankly, he can't deal with any of this shit right now, and wishes faintly that he hadn't woken up. When he finally pries his hands away from his head, Hayato is already on his feet and pointing an accusing finger at Kikyo. Chikusa tunes in just in time to catch the beginning of Hayato's rant. "-mention being completely suspicious and untrustworthy, but you're the HIGH PRIEST of the Millefiore temple! How the hell are you going to make up an excuse for coming here!?"  
  
Kikyo tucks his hair back delicately, as though his very existence isn't sending Hayato into fits every five minutes. "Well, I suppose that someone so low in the temple hierarchy wouldn't have learned this sort of thing... but as a head priest, I have more spare time than you would think. So long as I do my daily prayers and attend to all future events of the temple, then I should be able to spend a few simple hours in service of Chikusa Kakimoto. I have no vows against it. In fact, considering the role of my god, I have even more reason to involve myself."   
  
He's not even trying to hide that this is all bullshit... Ugh. But Chikusa has to admit that he really could use the help. So he does the very same thing that he did with Mukuro Rokudo. "We're writing up a contract," he says simply, before he glances up at Tsunayoshi. "...Could you be there as well... because it looks like... I could use some divine intervention..."   
  
The Mukuro Rokudo in question jolts upright again, and, this time, the cats almost jiggle in place. "Why _him_!?" he exclaims, while Games and Risks begins to promptly lose his shit to the side. " _I_ am your divine intervention!"   
  
"You didn't tell me about apparently divine powers that made blood pour out of my face," Chikusa reminds him, tired and blunt, and watches as Mukuro Rokudo pauses to take that argument in. "And Ember and Widfire... is the god of those who are weak, or against the wall, and find strength in those times, right...? So I think you'd honestly be a lot more useful... than a god of death. At least for this particular situation..."   
  
"You can't argue with that kind of logic," Games and Risks says cheerfully, while Mukuro Rokudo looks like he's going to tear out the other god's throat with his teeth judging by the way he smiles. "Well, as Kikyo's god, I have no problem with this too~. See, Tsunayoshi-kun? I'm being helpful and understanding!"   
  
Tsunayoshi's look of exhaustion and exasperation is an impressive thing as he glances at both of the other gods before he rubs at his face with both hands. Chikusa thinks he might swear a little bit, but the noises he makes are too muffled to be certain. "Byakuran," he says first thing, once his hands are away from his face and his mouth has no obstacles before it, "I don't want to hear anything from you." One of the black cats smacks Games and Risk's leg. Tsunayoshi looks back to Chikusa. "Anyway... Uh, I'm fine with doing that, but... I'm not sure if I'm the best kind of person for, uh. That. Sort of complicated legal thing." His gaze immediately goes to Hayato, awkward and apologetic and sort of hesitant. "Gokudera, I know this is probably a lot to ask, but could you be there too-"   
  
"Anything for you!" Hayato says, almost yells, voice cracking with the sheer amount of excitement in his tone. His hands are fisted at his sides, trembling from trying to restrain all the jubilant energy rushing through his entire being. "I was already going to suggest that I arrive to make sure that such an obvious plant would be properly restrained, so I'll gladly take this task, my god!"   
  
Well, that clearly settles everything. Turning away from the group of shitshows in his restaurant, Chikusa wobbles over in the direction of the staff area where he promptly procures an entire bottle of red wine. It's not the heaviest thing he has, honestly, but it'll do for now. Chugging straight from the bottle in a way that's absolutely not how wine should be drunk, he makes his way back to the dining area to watch from the hall as his group of "guests", plus one worker, all bicker at one another.   
  
As can be expected, Hayato is trying to send daggers at Kikyo with his eyes alone, mouth moving in a way that not-too-subtly implies he's whispering heated threats at the other man and his potential coworker while Kikyo just stands there, smugly. Mukuro Rokudo and Byakuran are still being forced to kneel on the ground, covered in dozens of cats who look like they could lounge there all day despite the gods themselves looking very much the opposite. Tsuna is talking at them, some more berating and annoyance. His head is on fire again. That's neat.   
  
Pulling the bottle away from his lips, Chikusa gives a quiet sigh and accepts the fact that he's going to feel worse in the morning when he wakes up, when his headache and the alcohol deal with the aftermath of his life choices up until this point. He also accepts that... this is going to just be his life now. Whether he likes it or not, he's gotten caught up with a bunch of pain in the ass gods, lots of weird regulars who are starting to develop habits in what they order, and a pair of employees that might try to kill each other in the middle of lunch rush hour.   
  
Is it really worth the energy? Is it really worth all the trouble, and the ever rising possibility that he'll die, or will kill someone himself? Is it worth getting a set of powers that he never even asked for, and that might really put him in a hospital? This whole... other world mess?  
  
Chikusa thinks about the pay, the exchange rate he has established with Mukuro Rokudo. He thinks about how he was able to get new tires for Dragon, Hakkai's jeep, and a new enclosure for Jeep, their iguana that has outlived most people and never leaves Hakkai's side. He thinks about how he's been able to get solid equipment for Platypus Place that will make sure it keeps running for a good long while.   
  
He considers the many beanies he's been able to buy.   
  
...Yeah. He sighs, and takes another, if smaller, swig of his wine. He guesses that it might all be worth it.   
  
And maybe he won't die next time he tries to use his powers. That would be nice.

**Author's Note:**

> KHR Rarepair Week 2020, Sun Day: Isekai AU 
> 
> S O 
> 
> I told myself that if I finished all my entries for KHR Rarepair Week early, then I'd add a little bit more to either this or the first day, for the flameswap fic. But this turned out much easier to add to over and over again, ha ha, so it got the better end of the stick. 
> 
> Hopefully the ships tagged aren't too subtle... I rng'd every ship after Mukuro and Gokudera.


End file.
